Redemption
by NightwindandFrostbite
Summary: G1 This is our big, huge story about Megatron, Starscream, and Skyfire. It's the first story of an AU, but this particular story is not AU until the very end. It's also slash. First chapter is an author's note. Please read it first!
1. Foreword

**The Foreword to _Redemption_**

Well, here it is..._finally_. A story six years in the making because Real Life Sucks™, especially when it includes unpleasantness like...ohhhh...divorces and cross-country moves and working full-time and...Well, you get the idea. So here we are, finally writing an intro to this behemoth, to let y'all know what you're in for before you embark on reading it.

The first thing that you need to know is that it's "slash," meaning that we put two "males" together into romantic relationships. In all honesty, we don't believe that you can have real "slash" with robots, but you might feel differently. And if you can't deal with that, don't read this story. If you decide to read it anyway, we don't want to hear about how grossed-out you are and how "Megatron isn't gay!" Now that that's out of the way...

This whole thing started as a series of online/IM discussions between the two of us about Starscream, Megatron, and Skyfire and the interrelationship between the three of them. Then it started coming together as "just" a few little vignettes. Then we realized that, as you watch the second season of the G1 cartoon, you can see a definite progression of events, a slow degeneration of the relationship between Megatron and Starscream and of the Decepticon organization as a whole. We _highly _doubt that this was at all intentional on the part of the people responsible for creating the original G1 cartoon, but nevertheless, it is there if you look for it. We figured that there had to be a reason for it and...well, this story is, when all is said and done, just our take on that.

It is also our attempt to give Starscream a measure of justice. We sympathize with Starscream in the sense of his association with Megatron, seeing their relationship as a highly aberrant one (Yes, even for Decepticons) of creatively manipulative abuser and highly-vulnerable-to-manipulation abused. (For more info about how we see their relationship, see Nightwind's "essay" here: Having lived through that sort of thing ourselves, each in a different way, we feel for Starscream in, admittedly, a wholly biased sort of way. As such, there is quite a bit of, shall we say, situational self-inserting that happens in this story. Many of the things that happen in this story are directly drawn from personal experience, and some of them may be quite disturbing to you, depending on your own level of sensitivity. One reader has advised us to insert a non-con warning here, although _we _don't really see it that way. _You _might, though, so be warned.

Because of our pro-Starscream bias, there is, of course, the urge to make things all better for him. Hence, by the end of this thing, an alternate universe is born, but this story itself is not necessarily AU at all; it sticks very closely, in fact, to the canon cartoon events. Our interpretation of events and the ("slash") relationships between characters might not be strictly canonical...but it works for us and we can justify it at least to ourselves. Your interpretations, of course, may not be exactly the same as ours, and that's OK.

_Redemption_ is, when you strip it down, simply a series of episode tags for certain key episodes (so we see them, anyway) that take place in the latter two-thirds of the second season of the G1 cartoon, starting with "Enter the Nightbird" and ending with the end of "Masquerade," at which point our AU diverges from the canon. The story is our take on what might have happened "behind the scenes," so to speak, during that time period. It is not meant to be an action-packed, plot-heavy epic. In a sense, it is not even a "story" at all. It is more of a series of linked vignettes, each one being a chapter of the story and narrated by one of five characters, three of which are Starscream, Skyfire, and Megatron themselves. You can tell who's "speaking" when because at the start of each chapter is a quote from the cartoon series from the character who'll "narrate" the chapter. Note that our story and our interpretation of the characters is based solely on the original G1 cartoon; nothing from the comics figures into it. If you're a comic fan, please keep that in mind as you read.

Above all, _Redemption_ is simply a story about three individuals living out a pivotal stretch of time in each of their lives, all seen through the eyes of five individuals. We hope that you enjoy reading it, and we hope that it will, perhaps, make you think.


	2. Chapter 1

**_"You know, Skywarp, I can't wait to get back to Cybertron. Earth's so...flat."_**  
_Thundercracker in "More Than Meets the Eye"_

Fighting alongside Soundwave is not my idea of bliss, and it isn't just because Soundwave, so it's said, can read my mind. No, I dislike fighting alongside of Soundwave mostly because he's always so damned _calm_ about it all…and I'm not. It's petty, I know, but I _hate_ being shown up like that. Soundwave is all, "La dee dah…_blam blam blam!_…La dee dah…Oh, look! An Autobot. _Boom!_…La dee dah…" And I'm all, "Oh, dear, sweet Primus, help _meeeeeee_!"

Quite the contrast, isn't it?

Of course, _I_ might be much calmer about fighting, too, if I had a small horde of crazed, overzealous, pipsqueak minions to send prancing off to the front lines of a battle in my place…but I don't have that luxury. So for that reason amongst many others, that serene calm in battle that Soundwave has in spades is something that is far beyond poor, pathetic little Thundercracker's grasp. In fact, utter panic seems to be more my speed, although I at least hide it well. Usually.

_Except from Soundwave, of course_ , one amused member of the chorus of voices that resides in my head suddenly, cheerfully burbled at me. Which, of course, Soundwave probably "heard." Which was just…great.

That was the point that I realized that I needed a distraction, and that I needed it like _now_. Otherwise, those inner voices would take over in full force, which often had a rather paralyzing effect that was quite the handicap in a battle situation. One would _think_ that there would be distractions aplenty in the middle of a pitched battle with the Autobots…but, in my case, one would be wrong about that because I seem to have this peculiar and dubious talent for multitasking. One half of my mind can become fully engaged in cheerfully attempting to blow Autobots to kingdom come while the other half sits back, gets comfortable, and delights in heckling me, wanting to know _why_ I'm blowing Autobots to kingdom come in the first place, much less why I'm enjoying doing so.

The multitasking thing does come in handy at times, though. Like, for instance, right at this very moment, when people are shooting at me but my mind still insists on strolling off down all sorts of interesting philosophical paths. Thanks to that ingrained "sixth sense" of mine, I managed to duck just in time to avoid having my head blown off by a laser blast that one of the Autobots lovingly sent my way. As I straightened up again, I longed more than anything to take to the sky, which was generally the place where I felt the most comfortable and secure and in control and all of those good things. But, at least for the moment, no one else was doing that…

_And you don't want to look like a big, fat chicken. "Ooooh, can't touch me, 'cuz I'm waaaaaaay up here, and I move_ fast_!" _

"Quiet!" I hissed at myself.

And I hissed it aloud, unfortunately, which prompted Soundwave beside me to shoot a quick glance in my direction. Now, I wouldn't say that Soundwave looked "oddly" or "questioningly" at me because, when all is said and done, any one glance from Soundwave tends to look pretty much like any other. Expression in any sense of the word is not his forte, and it isn't just because of the unreadable faceplate and visor that make up his face. No, Soundwave could be deliriously happy or profoundly furious, but you'd never be able to tell the difference from any of his body language or from any sort of inflection in his voice. Still, even though the look Soundwave shot me lacked anything remotely resembling emotional expression, I sensed – or, more likely, feverishly imagined – a faintly disapproving vibe emanating from him…_Yeah, he's thinking, "The schizo's hearing voices in his head again! Must tell Megatron!"…_and used that as a convenient excuse to edge away from him. I didn't edge away too quickly, though, because the ingrained urge not to appear poultry-like was strong.

But as far as I was concerned, fighting alongside anyone else was preferable to fighting alongside of Soundwave. Fighting alongside that Nightbird thing across the way there was infinitely preferable, even. At least she…or it…or whatever…couldn't read my mind and probably wouldn't be interested in doing so anyway. Besides, if I could find any possible excuse to sidle away from Soundwave, I was surely going to take it.

Had I known that the battle would abruptly end about three minutes later, I might not have bothered with the whole effort of moving away from Soundwave. But I didn't know that the end was near, so to speak, so as quickly as dignity allowed I worked my way away from him. I narrowly dodged multiple laser blasts as I did so, although one of those blasts managed to splat rather painfully against the side of my shoulder, and consequently I ended up heaving myself in a barely-restrained panic behind a convenient group of boulders for some cover. After subsequently climbing to my knees and spitting out a mouthful of Earth's disgustingly ubiquitous dirt, I fully intended to use that well-defensible position to continue merrily blasting away at the Autobots, even though the battle seemed to be more or less at a stalemate, and stalemate tended to mean that Megatron would shortly call a retreat for some mysterious reason known only to him. And then, of course, we'd all high-tail it back to Headquarters with absolutely nothing to show for our wacky adventures other than, in my case, a blackened right shoulder and a pronounced tendency to avoid Soundwave for the next week or so.

From my position I ended up having a pretty good view of what would be the entirely unexpected end of the battle at hand. Because a moment later, a brief flash of bright red and a splash of sunlight sparkling off of painstakingly-polished silver metal caught my attention, just on the edge of my field of vision. It was Starscream, of course, lurking behind a column of upthrust rock not far away from me, just a bit off to my left. He was avidly watching the battle, apparently waiting for something.

Was I surprised to see him there? Nope. Not one little tiny bit. Starscream, after all, is nothing if not resourceful. And as we'd left our little "secret" base to go rescue a damsel in distress, so to speak, I had highly doubted that our illustrious Air Commander would manage to remain caged and meekly awaiting Megatron's victorious return. For some reason, I didn't think _Megatron_ thought that Starscream would stay caged, either…but that's an entirely different and much creepier issue. In any case, there Starscream suddenly was, as if on cue.

And so, several minutes later, in the wake of Starscream nailing Nightbird with his null ray – or so I presumed, at least, since she merely collapsed in an askew heap instead of ending up in a zillion scattered bits – and after Megatron, predictably, dove into a tearing rage as a result, we were all ordered simply to get Starscream. So we had all obediently taken off after his rapidly-retreating form. Starscream being Starscream, however, he quickly left us all in the proverbial dust, so we were all reduced to hunting him down like a pack of completely clueless hounds pursuing a particularly sly fox. Each Decepticon went his own separate way in the hope of reeling in the prize catch of the day because catching that prize would curry tremendous – though naturally quite temporary – favor with our glorious leader. Of course, Skywarp and I stuck together. Favor for one of us was favor for the other. Sort of, anyway. That was one of the good things about being half of a package deal. Besides, two sets of sensors were better than one. Or they would have been, at least, if we were really inclined to actively search for our wayward wingmate. Which we weren't.

Not that it mattered what Skywarp and I wanted to do, of course. What mattered was that Megatron had – as usual when it came to Starscream at his most outrageously uppity – completely switched mental gears in the space of a nanosecond. Suddenly, he didn't care at all about the Autobots, nor did he care about a chip containing information about Earth's myriad energy resources or about a usefully-dim human-made robot. Megatron suddenly didn't care about those other things because Starscream had shown up and had had the unmitigated gall to steal Megatron's thunder. That was all that mattered to Megatron. Well, that and the prospect of making Starscream pay for his audacity, of course…

It was amazing to me how often the strange dueling-egos dynamic between Megatron and Starscream tended to interfere with the smooth, orderly progression of the Glorious Decepticon Cause. As far as I was concerned, if either of them knew – or cared – what was really good for said cause, they'd knock it the hell off. And personally, reflecting on the whole thing while theoretically searching for Starscream, I wished to Primus that they _would_ knock it off… Of course, I didn't make that wish for the sake of The Cause. More and more often, I found that I couldn't care less about The Cause. I made the wish solely for the sake of my own sanity.

_…_ If_ you can still be considered "sane," that is, _one of the voices suddenly burbled at me. _It could be argued that sane people don't generally hear – much less occasionally have extended conversations with – resident voices in their heads, you know…_

I sighed inwardly at the voice without having an extended conversation with it this time because at that particular moment, a flash of black suddenly appeared out of nowhere and then whizzed by me, which adequately served to interrupt the disordered, brooding, and distracted chain into which my thoughts, such as they were, had settled. Skywarp looped lazily around me and then serenely settled himself just off my right wing, where he usually tended to hover whenever we flew together. He had flitted off somewhere for a while. My broody silence had no doubt had the effect of boring him to death, and he'd quickly tired of his usual game of verbally poking at me when the poking had no detectable result. So, off he had teleported to Primus-knew-where where he had done Primus-knew-what for half an hour or so. But, like a big black-and-purple homing pigeon, he had inevitably returned to my side, where he belonged. And he was even quiet for a moment as he flew there alongside me, silently pacing me. But, Skywarp being Skywarp, his silence lasted only a short moment.

"Like the saying goes…" he said, his tone of voice typically cheerful, "'Penny for your thoughts?'"

"I don't think they're worth a penny," I sullenly growled back at Skywarp, without thinking.

My rather snappish tone seemed to take Skywarp by surprise; he was uncharacteristically quiet for several long moments after I'd spoken. But then he finally and rather smugly announced, "_I_ know exactly what you're thinking."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah," Skywarp replied. "You're thinking, 'What are we going to do if we find him?'"

"Your psychic powers are _truly_ stunning today, Skywarp," I answered sourly, but Skywarp merely snickered at my grumpiness.

"Whoa! Grouch alert!" he teased lightly.

I made an exasperated noise at that, thought about making the effort to come up with a witty retort, but then ended up simply answering dispiritedly, "Grouchiness…is just what I do."

Skywarp made a weary and slightly rude noise back at me.

"Like I don't know that already?" he grumbled ruefully, and then a moment of silence followed while Skywarp apparently thought about things. Again. But, like his previous silence, Skywarp's bout of thinking lasted only a moment, too. "Sooooo…" he tentatively ventured. "What _are_ we going to do if we find him, Thundercracker?"

Well, wasn't _that_ just the billion-dollar question? And I certainly didn't know the answer to it. I'd been thinking about it for quite a while now, as we'd searched for Starscream without, admittedly, putting all that much serious effort into the task, but I hadn't come up with any definitive answers. So…

"I have absolutely _no_ idea, Skywarp," I answered truthfully.

"Do we…bring him in?" Skywarp asked after a moment of silence between us, his voice tinged with an odd and uncharacteristic uncertainty. "_If _we find him, I mean. And I really hope we _don't_ find him, you know, because then we'll _have_ to decide what to do with him which will be kind of a hard decision to make, because…Well, I don't know about _you_, but—"

"Skywarp?" I interrupted wearily.

"Yeah?"

"Shut up," I said without heat. "I can't hear myself think with all the babbling."

"Sorry," Skywarp answered, although he didn't sound at all apologetic. Amused, yes; apologetic, no. "Babbling's what _I_ do," he added brightly.

"Like I don't know that already?" I immediately fired back, attempting though not quite achieving the same sort of light tone that Skywarp had used a moment ago. "And to answer your question," I continued in a decidedly heavier tone, "I don't know whether we should bring him in or not, either."

Another long moment of silence hovered between us, lasting until Skywarp again chose to break it.

"OK," Skywarp suddenly declared. "_I_ think we should bring him in."

Because, you see, Megatron isn't the only one in the universe who can switch mental gears in half a nanosecond flat. Skywarp is another master of that particular art form, as he'd just demonstrated. Only a moment before, he'd been tentative, uncertain, but now his voice was suddenly ringing with the familiar and, to me, comforting decisiveness that I deeply admired in him.

Except, of course, when it completely pissed me off.

"_You_ would," I snapped, my tone of voice, in hindsight, regrettably harsh.

Sometimes, it is a total pain in the thruster to be bonded to one of Megatron's favorites. After all, because of that exalted status that he enjoys, Skywarp's first, unconscious impulse is always to "toe the party line," as it were. Even if he wasn't intensely loyal to Megatron – and I know that he is, and I even understand _why_ he is – the fact is that, since he's favored, Skywarp hardly ever sees any reason to question doing anything that strikes Megatron's fancy. Whereas I, of course, question everything, at least in my head if not out loud. In that sense, Skywarp and I balance each other well, as we do in so many other ways.

On the other hand, though…Well, most of the serious arguments that Skywarp and I have had have arisen out of that very basic difference between us, the difference between his blind, unquestioning loyalty to Megatron and my eternal doubtfulness. We argue about Megatron and his direction…or we argue about Starscream, who has a singular, unerring talent for bringing out the worst in both of us, usually at the worst of times. And this time, in a sense, we were arguing about both of them at once.

"Well, why _shouldn't_ we bring him in?" Skywarp was answering me now, his tone suddenly defensive. His defensiveness was, under the circumstances, quite understandable. I'd served the first volley of general snippiness, and it wasn't surprising that he would lob attitude right back at me in return. Understanding Skywarp's surly defensiveness didn't at all prevent me from being annoyed, though.

"Because you damn well _know_ what will happen if we do, Skywarp!" I informed him, _way_ more harshly than I'd intended. I was, in fact, yelling at him.

Had we not been flying, Skywarp likely would have physically recoiled from the tone of my voice. He wasn't used to hearing me yell, after all. No one was, really. But I was yelling now, and I disliked myself for doing so. I was just about to say so to Skywarp, too, just about to apologize for my black mood and for my yelling and for my general surliness…but Skywarp spoke up before I could do so.

"I know," he said quietly and, to his credit, not at all angrily. His voice, in fact, was nothing if not full of weary understanding. "Of course I know, TC," he continued softly, almost soothingly, before adding a bit of steel to his voice as he finished, "But I also know that it's _notour business_. In fact, it's _neverbeen_ our business."

"True…" I grumbled unhappily. And then I added after an uneasy stretch of silence, "But maybe we should _make_ it our business."

"TC…" Skywarp responded warningly.

"I mean," I continued, heedless of Skywarp's sudden, obvious discomfort with the turn our conversation had taken, "I don't know how much longer I can just sit back and…and just do _nothing_…"

"Aw, c'mon, TC," Skywarp cajoled me, trying as usual to yank me back from the brink of all-consuming self-doubt. "Don't go all weird and heroic on me. It really doesn't suit that-there symbol on your wing, y'know."

"Skywarp," I growled warningly. "Don't. Start."

"Start _what_?!" Skywarp responded exasperatedly. When I didn't answer, he eventually made a weary, resigned noise at me and continued, "Look… TC… This has been going on, like…_forever_ between those two. You know that. If _either_ one of them was really unhappy with the…uh, situation…don't you think one or the other of them would've actually gone ahead and _done_ something about it by now? If nothing else, Screamer's had _squillions_ of chances to bump off Megatron – and vice versa – but neither of them has ever quite managed to pull it off, have they? So that tells me that neither of them really _wants_ to bump off the other, for whatever strange reasons they have in their wee little heads."

I chewed on Skywarp's words for quite a long while. He was right, at least in that Starscream and Megatron had indeed been combative for as long as I'd known both of them. For a long time, I hadn't thought all that much about it. Physical discipline had always been a part of "Decepticon Standard Operating Procedure," it seemed, at least so long as Megatron was around, and he didn't make exceptions for anyone. I'd been on the receiving end of it myself more than a few times. But still, with Megatron and Starscream it was different. The undercurrent between them was different, the words harsher, the gestures more exaggerated, and the punishments for perceived insults more severe. It just wasn't…right. That was the word. It wasn't right.

And, in fact, the friction between Megatron and Starscream has only gotten worse over the last couple of years, ever since we'd awakened on Earth after a four-million-year-long nap. It's been a rough stretch of time for all of us. Simply adjusting to life on a different planet, one with a completely different sort of environment than we were used to, has been difficult enough; finding ways to use the planet to our advantage adds a whole new and interesting level of stress. There have been many setbacks along the way, some at the hands of the Autobots, most just because things didn't go precisely as well as Megatron had originally envisioned. There are too many variables on this planet, too many bizarre differences from Cybertron, too many unknowns, too many natives who seem completely random and illogical. So, I tend to think that Megatron often feels insecure and out of control here on Earth, where everything around him is unfamiliar, uncomfortable, unpredictable and, quite possibly, completely uncontrollable. And in the end, Starscream pays a high price for Megatron's insecurity. Because so far as I can figure, Megatron takes great comfort in the knowledge that, even if everything else is spinning wildly out of his ability to control, he can still completely control every aspect of Starscream's life.

And that notion makes _me_ uncomfortable.

Starscream and I aren't exactly what I'd call friends. We're wingmates because he and I have proven that we can work well together, along with Skywarp, and that relationship does tend to tie both Skywarp and me to Starscream much more closely than to anyone else in Decepticon Headquarters. I wouldn't characterize it as a _friendly_ relationship between the three of us, though. If nothing else, Skywarp and Starscream, fueled by a deep and abiding mutual jealousy, often bring out the very worst in each other and have been known, from time to time, to be at each other's throats. But even besides that…I'm not really sure that Starscream is capable of forming friendships. He has a distinct tendency to push people away instead, often rather violently. I'm not sure if he does it unconsciously, if it's just the inevitable outcome of his general snotty, superior attitude…or if that snotty, superior attitude is something that he deliberately constructed, that's specifically _designed_ to prevent people from getting too close to him. Whatever the case, Starscream always holds himself aloof, never sharing much of himself with anyone. And, as Skywarp had pointed out, he does nothing, really, to change his situation with Megatron, leading me to share Skywarp's belief that on some level – possibly an unconscious level that he doesn't recognize himself – Starscream doesn't really wish to change that situation at all. But still…

Watching Starscream and Megatron interact in public is a painful thing to watch, and the thought of what goes on between them when they aren't in public is, at best, extremely uncomfortable to contemplate. But my lot in life seems to be to contemplate things, and it's usually the really uncomfortable things that most often torment my restless, argumentative little mind. In the past, whenever I had contemplated the situation between Megatron and Starscream, I had always managed to convince myself that it wasn't my place to interfere with their whole…thing. Annoying "heroic" instincts notwithstanding, I knew that to get between the two of them was to court reprisals from both of them. So, with all that in mind, I had to ask myself why I was now so torn in the wake of this latest incident. It was really no different than the other major incidents that seemed to punctuate Megatron and Starscream's exceedingly odd love/hate relationship with each other.

Once again, for what was at _least_ the hundred-thousandth time, Starscream had deliberately gotten himself into hot water. Extreme jealousy had been driving him, I suspected. He had obviously perceived Nightbird's presence as a threat to his lion's share of Megatron's attention, had obviously bought into Megatron's threats to replace him. If he'd stopped and thought about it for even half a second, though, he would have realized how utterly ridiculous that notion was. The problem, of course, was that Starscream sometimes doesn't think, not even for a moment. It was true that, if one managed to scratch the thick outer shell of Starscream's arrogant standoffishness and catch him a bit off-guard, one quickly discovered that he was rather unexpectedly brilliant. Devastatingly perceptive, even. As a former scientist, I suppose he had to be. But unfortunately for him his emotions and reactions often seem random, completely unpredictable. The end result is that his chaotic thoughts and reactions usually tend to override his admittedly impressive higher thought processes, just as they had this time.

And this time Starscream had, as usual, made the decision to make trouble all on his own. No one had forced the decision upon him. He had no one to blame but himself. So why shouldn't he have to accept the consequences of that decision? That was the question that was plaguing me, that I was asking myself over and over as I struggled with sudden misgivings toward the entire situation. But I knew that it wasn't my place to intervene…

_Or is it?_

I heaved a silent, resigned sigh at that nagging little voice.

_Second guess, second guess. That's all you ever do_ , I peevishly informed it in return. Damned annoying, the voices were at times.

"I can see the little wheels turning in your little head, TC," Skywarp suddenly singsonged at me.

Being caught thinking and second-guessing is almost worse than the second-guessing itself. Unfortunately, Skywarp is really good at, among other things, catching me while I was thinking. It's almost as if he specifically watched for it, has some sort of radar for it…

But then, all unexpectedly, a gruff voice – Megatron's – interrupted my thoughts and our conversation, such as it was. And in one way, the news that Megatron conveyed to us was welcome. In another way, however, it made me cringe to my very core.

"Starscream has been found—" Megatron rumbled without preamble over the general Decepticon communications frequency. His voice sounded tinny and distant, but at the same time it held a curious combination of satisfaction and cold, quiet rage. The latter made me mentally wince.

"Oh, praise Primus and pass the peanuts!" Skywarp was happily whooping, meanwhile, drowning out whatever it was that Megatron said after that.

"—are to return to base immediately," Megatron was ordering flatly as Skywarp was finishing his whooping.

But as Skywarp and I banked in perfect, unconscious unison and headed for home, I realized that, this time, I wasn't looking forward to going home at all…


	3. Chapter 2

**_"Are you happier being a warrior than a scientist, Starscream?"_**  
_Skyfire in "Fire in the Sky"_

At the beginning of the end, there were words.

It should not have been surprising to me. Words had an interesting way of defining my life. They tended to delineate the highs and the lows and, especially, the turning points of my existence. It was just that I hadn't had any idea that such a turning point was imminently upon me on this particular day, didn't know that my life was about to change dramatically because it was otherwise, all things considered, a completely unremarkable day.

I was walking down one of the crisscrossing corridors that threaded their way in a haphazard and disorganized fashion through the erstwhile space cruiser that had become Autobot Headquarters. As I walked along, minding my own business, I was as usual feeling a bit claustrophobic. The corridors were designed for Autobots who were, on average, half my size, so I always walked through them with my shoulders slightly hunched, always harboring the feeling that I was about to bang my head on something. It was an unnerving feeling at times, one that certainly made me feel quite out of place, and I really did not need that.

I knew, after all, that I was _already_ out of place…but I stopped that train of thought in its tracks, before it could start to careen out of control.

At that moment, though, I had a mission of sorts, a reason to be striding purposefully through the cramped corridors of Autobot Headquarters. I had been away, sent halfway around the planet on yet another fruitless reconnaissance mission. Busywork, it had been, or so I deeply suspected, at least. Optimus Prime was very good at handing out such busywork. And of course it always seemed to be the case that once I was away and inconveniently on the other side of the planet, all hell broke loose at Autobot Headquarters. This occasion had been no exception to that general rule, and there had been a confrontation between the Autobots and the Decepticons in my absence, one that had involved, so I had heard, a human-made robot and a stolen computer chip.

Whenever such a confrontation happened – _especially_ when I had not been directly involved in it – a few nagging questions always tended to leap immediately to the forefront of my thoughts: Had Starscream been involved? Had he been damaged? Or worse?

I tried not to have such thoughts. Starscream had once been – and still _was_, actually, although no one else but Starscream himself knew that – my bondmate. But now he was also the Autobots' enemy, which, since I had chosen to ally myself with the Autobots, had made Starscream technically _my_ enemy as well. Technically. So it was, of course, exceedingly bad form to ask after Starscream in the wake of a battle between the Autobots and the Decepticons. To do so would have earned me, I was sure, some odd looks at the very least, and more likely a good deal of outright hostility. So, I had to be subtle. I had to ask _around_ the subject of Starscream in order to get the answers that I really wanted and needed. The problem, of course, was that I was not very good at being subtle. Rather, if I wanted to know something, I generally just asked direct questions, bluntly and forthrightly, sometimes even unthinkingly. In this case, of course, I couldn't do that, at least, not without fielding some very awkward questions in return.

The technique I had developed to ask about Starscream without _really_ asking about him was to listen intently to the Autobots whenever they recounted conflicts that I had managed to miss, to see if I could glean any unspoken details from what they said. Sometimes it was easy. If one of the Autobots would, for instance, crow about having shot down Starscream, then I knew that he had been involved. Of course, I then had to suppress the impulse to wince or give any outward appearance of alarm if someone had done that. I had to be content with continuing to listen, to see if any further details were relayed in the discussion that followed. Sometimes they were, but more often they were not, and then I would have to live in a constant state of worry – worry that that I could not express to _anyone, _of course – until I could perhaps catch a glimpse of Starscream again across a battlefield.

I _hated_ that. I hated the fact that the only time I could see Starscream now was when we were ostensibly trying to kill each other. And I hated uncertainty, too. I hated worry. But they had become my lot in life, along with tolerating the Autobots' obligatory, derogatory comments about Starscream.

It seemed as if there was some unwritten law in the Official Autobot Rule Book that rude comments had to be made whenever someone said the word "Starscream." I had learned to tolerate – more or less – the almost constant assassination of Starscream's character that I heard so casually bandied about Autobot Headquarters. It was an activity in which a certain select few of the Autobots seemed to delight, so if I had not learned to tolerate it, I might have done something regrettable long ago. But it helped that, on some level, I understood the tendency; to the Autobots, after all, Starscream was merely The Enemy, nothing more. To a fault, they were quite comfortable with demonizing him because, to them, he was not a real person. They did not know him like I knew him. This, I understood. At least, I understood it intellectually.

But even I had limits to my patience, and I had gotten to the point, after a year or so of living amongst the Autobots, that the insults and crude remarks were now steadily, quietly eating away at me like a cancer. I was at the point where, usually, I did not want to be around anyone in Autobot Headquarters, save for a select few. I even welcomed Optimus Prime's busywork if it meant that I had a valid reason to stay far away from everyone. The only time I deliberately stayed at Autobot Headquarters for any length of time was when I needed to know what had happened during battles that occurred in my absence.

And now, as I approached the open doorway to the Rec Room, I heard a burst of laughter coming from several of the Autobots who had gathered within, and I stopped to listen to them, leaning against the wall out of sight of the room's occupants. Bluestreak…or was it Cliffjumper? Their voices were so similar that sometimes it was hard for me to tell them apart…Well, Bluestreak, I decided, had said something, and everyone else present – maybe five or six Autobots, judging by the decibel level of their laughter – was laughing in response to whatever he'd said. Instinctively, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I couldn't help it. I was fairly certain, after all, as to the identity of the object of their mirth. It was a dubious sort of sixth sense. Not for the first time, I silently demanded of an unsympathetic universe to know why certain Autobots always had to make Starscream the butt of their offensive jokes. It seemed that no other Decepticon aroused so much amusement amongst the Autobots even though, from everything that I knew, he had not done anything that just about any other Decepticon had not also done.

It was while I was contemplating that issue that one of the Autobots chose to offer up a very bad imitation of Starscream's voice, in a screeching, earsplitting voice. I winced as whoever it was continued his loud impersonation. "I am invincible!" was all I could make out as everyone in the room burst into laughter. In response, rage flooded me, a protective rage that I had to repress, something that was getting harder and harder to do. I knew, after all, that the Starscream that the Autobots saw was not Starscream, at least not the Starscream that I knew. I knew him not as a power hungry warrior bent on universal domination, but as a brilliant scientist and a bold explorer and, deep down, as a loving, empathetic person. Oh, he had changed, of course, but I knew that somewhere deep down, he was still the person that I knew. I only wished that I understood what had happened to him while I had spent millions of years in stasis and buried under tons of Arctic ice…

At the thought, I lifted a hand in order to rub wearily at my forehead, which was now faintly throbbing at me. It was a tiresomely familiar sensation; my head began to hurt every time I fell into this self-defeating cycle of uncertainty and confusion over what stand to take regarding Starscream and the Autobots.

Starscream had changed, indeed. This was not the first time I'd reminded myself of that fact, but, no matter how many times I reminded myself, it had never seemed to sink in although I knew that I needed to come to terms with it. Starscream had made it abundantly clear on more than one occasion that we were no longer mates but enemies, and I knew that I could not have two allegiances, that I had to fully commit myself to one cause or the other and then live that commitment, without any second thoughts. The Autobots needed me, and they had accepted me for who and what I was, without demands. Starscream, on the other hand, had rejected me. More importantly, he had rejected us.

As another round of laughter filled the rec room, the hand that had been rubbing at my forehead moved instinctively to my shoulder, to the spot where I had once been injured by a blast from Starscream's laser rifle. Although the physical pain of the injury had long since faded, the psychological and emotional wounds that it had wrought were still weighing heavily upon me. His rejection of me hurt more than I had been allowing myself to feel. At the thought, I breathed a heavy, resigned sigh as I felt something shift and give way in my mind. It was a realization that I had not really wanted to make.

I stood there, listening to the Autobots enjoying themselves at the Decepticons' expense, feeling Starscream's rejection of me wash through my consciousness, and I began to allow that perhaps I was meant to be an Autobot after all, that perhaps it was time that I finally let go of the past and took up the Autobot cause without reservation. I determinedly straightened my shoulders and, although the throbbing in my head had not at all subsided, I decided to join my chattering comrades. But then, before I could take that first fateful step toward the open doorway, a few words suddenly and inexplicably echoed through my mind, and those words utterly destroyed my fledgling, newfound resolve, preventing me from taking a single step toward the open doorway to the Rec Room.

_You never quit on the people you love._

Spike's words. I realized that they had been more of those pivotal, turning-point sorts of words. Oh, at the time, they hadn't been directed toward me any more than the words I was now hearing from the Autobots in the other room were meant for me. But I had heard them. I could not help but hear them.

And at the time… At the time, those words had hit home. From the moment I had heard Spike say them to his father shortly after Spike, a few other Autobots, and I had rescued the human mechanic from captivity and mind-controlled slavery at the hands of the Decepticons, I had known that the words had actually been, in some fateful, cosmic way that I had not entirely understood, meant for me. They were a reminder to me of something that I had forgotten, of something that I had, perhaps, been trying to forget, even as recently as just a few moments ago. The words, at the time, had been a wake-up call, so to speak, and they had sparked the beginnings of the disaffection that I now felt with the Autobots, a disaffection that, as time went on, was only growing steadily and stealthily within me, gnawing at my conscience despite my occasional efforts to fit in with the Autobots.

And my reaction to Spike's words even now as I lingered in the corridor and remembered them all unbidden only confirmed a stark and difficult truth, a truth that I knew to the very depths of my being but that I had not wanted to admit to myself: I had given up on Starscream. I had convinced myself – or I had been trying to convince myself, at least – that he was not and could never again be the Starscream that I loved, that he had been irrevocably corrupted, that he was now, for whatever reason, a completely different person than the one whom I had known. And I had almost managed to convince myself that I didn't care what happened to him, too. Starscream had, after all, made it clear that he did not care what happened to me. He had, in fact, tried to kill or at least injure me on the few occasions that we had encountered one another since my revival a year ago. That wasn't exactly a declaration of abiding affection on his part, was it?

But…despite all of that… Well, the simple truth of the matter – a truth that I could not deny – was that some part of me had not given up on the Starscream that I knew intimately well. Moreover, I knew that some part of me would never give up on him, no matter what happened between us. Indeed, that part of myself could not give up on Starscream even if I wanted it to. We were bondmates, after all, a step we'd taken not long before we had left Cybertron on that ill-fated exploratory mission that had ended in my crash and deactivation and in a mind-bogglingly long period of separation. Despite that separation, however, that bond was never going to go away, and that meant that, however uncomfortable the situation was for both of us now, and however unwilling each of us was to acknowledge it, our fates were forever intertwined. It did not matter in the least that we now found ourselves on opposite sides of an eons-long war. All that mattered was that I knew I was Starscream's, and I knew that he was mine; that was simply all there was to it.

And, because of that bond between us, one that had once brought both of us a sublime and inexpressible joy, I was suddenly realizing that now, despite everything, despite the fact that he had changed in some rather drastic ways that I did not yet understand and that I certainly did not like , I simply could not in good conscience fight against Starscream. Ever. I could not even truthfully regard him as an enemy. He was not my enemy. In fact, he could not be my enemy, no matter what he had done in the past and no matter what he would do in the future. No, Starscream was too much a part of me – and I was too much a part of him – for us ever to be truly enemies. Therefore, I could never in good conscience fully pledge my allegiance to the Autobots, no matter how much I tried to convince myself that I could do so. In fact, I never should have attempted to do so in the first place, and I was surprised that I had stayed with them for as long as I had…

My head jerked up then as Cliffjumper's voice suddenly broke into my wandering thoughts. I listened to the little red Autobot as he recounted the final events of the confrontation that had taken place in my absence, and as I listened, I could feel the anger and frustration that I had so carefully bottled up for the past several months start to give way to a dark and turbulent fury. The dam that was holding back my emotions had just developed some large cracks, and I suddenly feared the flood that would result when it inevitably burst.

And then it happened. In a shockingly vulgar and crude way, Cliffjumper graphically described a theoretical punishment that Megatron might inflict upon Starscream for whatever he had done during the course of the battle…and, listening to Cliffjumper, all that I could feel was a blinding, white-hot rage, one that, this time, I couldn't repress. It needed an outlet, and the wall against which I had been leaning while listening to the Autobots' banter suddenly volunteered. Using all the force my right arm could muster, I slammed my fist into the obliging wall.

I didn't even notice the tingling zing of pain that shot up my arm after the impact as I growled in my mind, barely resisting the urge to scream the words aloud, _Enough! I will not abide this place any longer!_

And as I stalked past the open door of the suddenly dead-silent Rec Room, it dawned upon me that for the first time since I had been rescued from the Arctic ice, my head was completely clear, my thoughts focused and sharp, my life's path clear and well-defined before me. Filled with righteous anger and a new determination that no one would stand in my way, I began to make my way purposefully towards Autobot Headquarters' exit, feeling suddenly lighter than I had felt since awakening in the Arctic.

I vowed to myself as I stomped loudly down the corridor that I would not give up on Starscream, that my commitment and my promise had been to him first and to him alone, and that I had been denying that simple truth for far too long now. I knew now that I had to uphold that commitment, no matter what happened from that moment on. And as I stalked down the corridor, I swore to myself that, somehow, I would find a way to reach Starscream. I didn't know how I would do it, didn't have even the remotest idea. I only knew that I had to do it and, moreover, that I would do it.


	4. Chapter 3

**_"Open up, Skyfire!" _**  
_Jazz in "Attack of the Autobots" _

Cliffjumper is like a cat. A backwards cat, that is. Cats tend to land on their feet when they fall. Cliffjumper, on the other hand, tends to land on his head. Now, some Autobots – like, ohhhh…Mirage, for instance – would say that Cliffjumper's landing-on-his-head tendency explains a lot about the little guy, and for some _strange_ reason I tend to think that they aren't too far from the truth.

So it was that I ended up staring in puzzlement at Cliffjumper's feet in the aftermath of…of whatever it was that had knocked over his chair. A very loud _bang_, it had been, followed by a sympathetic vibration that had shaken the walls and the floor of the Rec Room, subsequently toppling Cliffjumper's chair. Not that that had been difficult to do since Cliffjumper had been leaning dangerously far back in it at the time, with his feet kicked lazily up on the tabletop and his arms folded over his chest, defenseless against gravity. For my part, I quickly ruled out a small and very short earthquake as the culprit when I happened to look past Cliffjumper's feet and caught a fleeting glimpse of something very large and mostly white flash by the open door of the Rec Room.

Skyfire. No other current resident of Autobot Headquarters was that big and that white.

A kind of hazy, vague realization, I think, dawned upon me when I saw Skyfire pass by the open door. Or rather, it was like someone had suddenly hurled an anvil at my head, one with a message attached to it, and it had hit me dead center. I had known that something had been bothering Skyfire for the past…Well, ever since he'd joined us, actually. Even so, it had been hard for me to get a handle on him, hard for me to figure out what he was _really_ like beneath that outer layer of calm, polite affability that he always presented to the world at large. It was difficult for me to tell what made Skyfire tick, what motivated him and what irritated him and so on and so forth. It was bizarre, really, because usually I had everyone I met pegged, psychoanalyzed, and neatly categorized within about three minutes of my introduction to them. I actually prided myself on that, and it was an ability on which Optimus Prime had, I think, come to rely as well. It came in handy sometimes, usually at the most unexpected of times.

Skyfire, though, was just this huge, white enigma, even to me. He could be sort of withdrawn at times. Closed. Guarded, even. Oh, sure, he was always polite, and even outwardly friendly, and he always cheerfully did whatever was asked of him even if what was asked of him was horribly dangerous or just utterly, mind-numbingly boring. But there was…Well, there was this big part of Skyfire, I sensed, that was…that was closed to the public, a part of him that _no one_ could touch, no matter how hard they might try. He put up all sorts of smokescreens around that locked door in his psyche in order to, I suspect, deflect from it any casual curiosity that might wander toward it and start to poke around uninvited. Smokescreens, however, usually didn't work very well with me. If nothing else, I was _quite_ used to dealing with such things from a certain annoyingly closed-mouthed, black-and-white member of "Clan Datsun." Prowl was a veritable master of those things, and with all the practice I'd gotten thanks to dealing with him over the years…Well, let's just say that I was now quite good at seeing right through them.

Except, apparently, with Skyfire, much to my frustration. With Skyfire, even as outwardly friendly as he was, I was fairly certain that he didn't really _want_ people to get close to him. And he was often, amazingly, even less talkative than Prowl could be even at his cozily-withdrawn-into-his-little-protective-shell worst. And it always seemed to me as if, most times, Skyfire's mind was floating somewhere off in the ether, a thousand light years away from his body. I'd often find him sitting somewhere, staring blankly off into the distance, completely absorbed in whatever it was that was flitting through his little head at that particular moment. But when I would alert him to my presence, he'd instantly snap out of his fugue, up would go that wall of amiable politeness, and suddenly I was completely shut out.

Frustrating, it was. _Very_ frustrating.

So cracking the nut that was Skyfire's psyche, had become something of a pet project of mine. And now…Well, given the subject of the rudely interrupted conversation at hand, now I suddenly had a _very_ enticing clue to the puzzle of that mysterious psyche of his. My curiosity was now aroused, and that, for Skyfire, was a very dangerous thing.

I stood up slowly, staring at the door with, I imagine, a perplexed but greatly intrigued frown on my face. At least, Prowl angled a curious yet wearily resigned glance up at me as I stood up. I knew that look of his well, and I knew what Prowl was about to say to me…but I didn't give him the chance. I just barreled toward the open doorway like a bloodhound on the trail of an escaped criminal.

"Be right back, guys!" I sang out merrily over my shoulder as I scooted hastily for the door.

"Or not," I heard Prowl murmur, amused, as I caught a fleeting glimpse of something big and white rounding the corner at the far end of the corridor and hurried to catch up with it.

It didn't take me long. Skyfire was big, but he wasn't especially fast. He was stalking down the long corridor ahead of me, and his stiff posture and loud, stomping strides were shooting off waves of flaming, screaming anger at me. I actually flinched at them, as if they'd physically lashed me, and I paused behind him, watching him, steeling myself.

Anger was never fun to deal with. But, as the unofficial Autobot Morale Officer and as just an All-Around General Nosy Nuisance…Well, lucky me! I was the one who most often got to bear the brunt of everyone else's anger, so I was pretty used to it by now. That didn't mean that I _liked_ dealing with pissed-off people. It just seemed to be my lot in life. So I took a moment to sigh at the large, daunting task that was stomping its way down the corridor ahead of me, heading, apparently, toward Autobot Headquarters' main entrance. But after a moment or two of reluctant hesitation, I dashed down the corridor after Skyfire, caught up with him easily, and casually fell into step next to him, although I had to walk fast to keep up with his longer strides.

"Hiya!" I said with exaggerated cheer, craning my neck to look up at him, which was necessary given the fact that he was half-again as tall as I was. Being around Skyfire, in fact, made me realize what it must be like for a human to hang out with me. I was surprised that Spike didn't have a permanent crick in his neck or something… "_Lovely_ weather we're having lately, isn't it?" I added.

Skyfire's reaction? He completely ignored me. _Me!_ Well, I'm sorry, folks, but _nobody_ ignores Jazz… Scowling, I whacked the side of Skyfire's hip with one fist in order to demand his attention.

"Yo!" I said loudly. "Down here!"

With that, Skyfire halted in his tracks so suddenly that I had to backpedal a few steps when I didn't stop as quickly as he did. He glared down at me, his massive arms folded tightly across his equally-massive chest, his shoulders bunched in anger. There was a fierce scowl plastered to his face that, given his normally placid and benign countenance, seemed utterly out of place on him. He glared at me like that for a few long moments, until I had to fight a strong urge to take a few nervous steps away from him. Finally, though, he spoke.

"_What_ do you _want_?" Skyfire rumbled demandingly at me. His voice had a dark, angry reverberation to it that I had never heard from him before, and his deeply threatening tone was one that I never would have expected to hear from him and that, frankly, I didn't particularly want to hear again.

So then I _did_ take a few steps away from him, and the vague, sketchy script for the conversation between Skyfire and me that I had mapped out in my head as I'd followed him down the corridor immediately and totally evaporated, as if someone had come along, stuck a straw into my brain, and sucked it out. My jaw moved, I think, but nothing came out. For a long moment, I was at a complete loss for words, which was something that had happened to me maybe two other times in my life.

Meanwhile, Skyfire, after those few moments spent glowering at the speechless me, snorted contemptuously and then continued to stomp his way down the corridor, the heaviness of his angry strides shaking the walls around me. The vibration at least seemed to jar me out of my speechlessness, though.

"Where are you going?" I called plaintively after Skyfire, watching him steadily advance toward Headquarters's main entrance.

"_Out!_" Skyfire angrily snapped over his shoulder, without breaking his stride. "Away from here. Away from _you_. _All_ of you."

I stood there for a few long moments after that, frowning deeply as I watched Skyfire walk away, debating what to do. Part of me was advising me to leave Skyfire alone. It was telling me that he'd always seemed to be able to work things out for himself, that I'd never been able to reach him before, and that, as overly-emotional as he seemed to be at the moment, I probably wouldn't be able to reach him now. But another part of me realized that, since Skyfire _was_ overly emotional at the moment, I might actually have better luck breaking through his various defenses.

Decisions, decisions_…_

I stood there in the corridor like an idiot, motionless, while the wheels turned in my head. I stood there for what had to have been five minutes, at least. Several people passed by me, giving me odd looks, but I ignored them. I was too busy trying to decide what to do. I was too busy trying to extrapolate all the possible outcomes of either of the plans that I was debating in my head…

…And then I caught myself, realized what I was doing, and snorted exasperatedly.

_Geeeeeez…_ I thought ruefully. _Get out of my freakin' head, Prowl! _

And I laughed out loud at _that_ thought, causing Gears, who just happened to be passing by me at that particular moment, to pause and angle a really odd look up at me. Just to annoy him, I gave Gears a stupid grin and a patronizing pat on the head, and then I started to hum a cheerful tune – all of which prompted him to spear me with one of his trademark sour looks. And then I turned…and did what I would have done three months ago – before Prowl's evil, logical, tactical influence, of course – without even thinking about it.

Continuing to hum contentedly to myself, I headed at a leisurely pace toward HQ's main entrance, hoping that Skyfire hadn't decided to fly off somewhere, since I'd never find him if that was the case… Something told me, though, that he wouldn't have flown off. Something was telling me that Skyfire actually _wanted_ to talk to someone about whatever it was that was bothering him, or that at least an unconscious part of him did, anyway. And of course he'd know that if he flew off, none of us Autobots except maybe Swoop – and he wouldn't be much good as a counselor – would be able to touch him… Therefore, I logically deduced that he'd be hanging out somewhere relatively near Headquarters, somewhere far enough away to be considered "away," but not so far away that no one would ever be able to find him…

Sure enough, I found Skyfire not even a quarter of a mile from Headquarters. I took a rueful moment to marvel at the fact that sometimes logic actually worked…and then vowed to myself that I'd _never_ admit to Prowl that I'd ever reached that conclusion. And then I bent to the task at hand, so to speak.

Skyfire had found himself a large, flat rock, and he was sitting on it, as motionless as a statue. He'd drawn up one knee, and he was resting the elbow of one arm against it. He was staring off into the cloudless, late afternoon distance, but I was quite certain that he wasn't actually seeing anything that he appeared to be looking at, even though the mountainous view was quite breathtaking. Skyfire's focus was entirely inward, and it was my self-appointed task to bring _outward_ all of that inward crud that was obviously bothering him so deeply. It was my "job" to get him to air his grievances, no matter how much I might not want to hear them. It was a tall order…but then, tall orders _were_ my specialty. So, I transformed and cautiously approached Skyfire closely enough that he'd have to notice me but not so closely that he could…well, hit me.

And then, without preamble, I quietly said, "I promise I'll go away if you really want me to…but I don't think you _really_ want me to."

Skyfire looked at me as I said that, slowly turning his head towards me, and then narrowing his eyes thoughtfully at me. He didn't say anything to me, but for the moment the walls didn't seem to be going up between us. He wasn't automatically shutting me out, and the anger that had been ruling him seemed to have seeped out of him somehow. The only problem was that the anger appeared to have been replaced by a haunted sadness. And I suddenly felt that it was all up to me to make him feel better. That, along with dealing with angry people, seemed to be my thing, after all.

A thought was insistently nagging at me now, as I looked at Skyfire sitting there looking at me. I'd been working on putting two and two together during my brief search for Skyfire. I had remembered a dogfight over the Arctic between Skyfire and another certain red-and-white jet. I had remembered a few of the words they had exchanged during that dogfight, at least those few that I had been able to make out over the deafening screech of close-range, low-flying jet engines. I had heard the word "friend" in there. I had thought, at the time, that I had been imagining it…but maybe I hadn't been, because suddenly I recalled noticing that, in subsequent encounters, Skyfire and Starscream had completely ignored each other, often flying right past each other as if the other wasn't there, never exchanging a single shot. And of course I recalled who the gang and I had been talking about just a little while ago, when Skyfire had seen fit to erupt into a sudden and completely uncharacteristic fury.

Things were starting, ever so slowly, to come together in my wee little mind.

"This is…This is about Starscream, isn't it?" I asked quietly of Skyfire.

Skyfire was still looking at me when I said that, and his eyes widened in surprise in response to my words. A look almost of alarm crossed his features…and then his mouth twisted, his resulting expression deeply troubled and uncertain. After all that, though, he _still_ didn't say anything to me. Which left talking up to me, as usual. Swear, Skyfire and Prowl _had_ to have been separated at birth or something.

"There, uh… There doesn't seem to be much love lost between you and him…?" I ventured cautiously, half question and half simple observation.

Skyfire continued to regard me with extreme uncertainty… but then his shoulders suddenly slumped and he slowly turned his face away from me, his gaze again settling unseeingly on the horizon in front of him. There was an odd look on his face as he stared at that horizon, too. His expression, just what I could see of it in profile, was half uncertain, half wistful, half confused, half saddened…and that was way too many halves, yeah, but there it was. It was all there. Each emotion played across his face, each warring for dominance but none of them clearly the winner in the end. Skyfire stared at the horizon for what seemed a long time, so long that I had to fight the urge to fill the resulting silence with chatter, as I normally might have done. But finally, just as I was about to say something to him, Skyfire decided to speak up.

And what he said to me…or what he _eventually_ said to me, at least…was certainly an eye-opener.

"On the contrary, Jazz," Skyfire almost whispered, in a voice that was a stark expression of uncomprehending pain. "It appears that far _too much_ love has been lost between Starscream and me. And I just don't… I wish that I understood _why_."

I was quiet for a moment after Skyfire said that, letting his words and the possible implications of them sink into my little brain. I think I had, at just that moment, an inkling of what he was eventually going to tell me…but at the same time, I wasn't yet ready to believe it.

"You…knew him, then?" I asked carefully before clarifying, "Before, I mean. Like, before the war and all."

Skyfire nodded slowly, his expression preoccupied, as he stared resolutely at the horizon.

"Yes," he eventually said, and for a long moment that was _all_ that he said. Emotions that I couldn't identify flickered across his face before he quietly added in a soft and somewhat detached monotone, "Back then, Starscream and I were scientists, explorers. Not warriors at all. There was nothing to fight about or fight _for_ back then, you see. And, at the time…"

His voice trailed off then, and he drew his one knee tighter into his chest, as if to make himself a smaller target. For the moment, I was content to wait to hear whatever it was that Skyfire was debating whether or not to tell me, confident now that he _would_ tell me. And then, finally, Skyfire drew himself up, squared his shoulders, looked straight at me…and out it came, for better or worse.

"And at the time, I…_knew_ Starscream, yes," Skyfire finished quietly, uncertainly, his voice barely audible, as if he wasn't at all sure that he should be saying what he was saying to me. "I knew _all_ of him…" he pointedly clarified, and there was suddenly a definite warmth to his tone of voice.

"_All_ of him?" I echoed hesitantly, after a moment's thought, after a moment spent wondering if Skyfire _really_ meant what I thought he meant. The pieces of the puzzle were quickly coming together, were rapidly forming the Big Picture. Problem was, I wasn't sure that I was liking that big picture that I was beginning to see at all.

And, as if to confirm that knowledge that was suddenly blooming in my brain – although my brain wasn't sure if it wanted to acknowledge it – Skyfire smiled an almost teasing smile at me, something that surprised me. There was still pain in his eyes, on his face, a deep and inexpressible pain…but his burden, I suspected, was slowly lightening, the more he talked.

Unfortunately, _my_ burden was about to get a _whole_ lot heavier…

"_You_ know what I mean, Jazz," Skyfire said serenely, confidently. "Or at least, given recent events in your own life, you _should_ know what I mean."

My jaw dropped at that. I had suspected that Skyfire was going to say something like that, yes…but I hadn't really _expected_ it. There's a difference there. And of course I knew what he was talking about. I knew the "Joy of Bonding," so to speak, having so recently experienced it myself. But in knowing that joy, I also had an inkling, now, of what the darker flip side of it might be like… And that, of course, was what Skyfire was currently experiencing.

"Ohhhhhhhh, _Primus_…" was my only response for a long while. In fact, in response to Skyfire's revelation, my knees suddenly decided to give out, so that I found myself ungracefully collapsing to the ground next to his rock. I sat there for quite a while, trying to marshal my reeling thoughts and reactions into something resembling coherence and then trying to come up with words, _any_ words, that I could say to Skyfire. Words were pretty much refusing to come to me, though; I was on a roll with the speechlessness thing. But I did manage, somehow, to stammer out, "You…and Starscream…you were…you _are_…"

"Bondmates, yes," Skyfire confirmed, his voice steady now, the uncertainty utterly gone. He seemed, in fact, much calmer about all of this than I was, now. "We decided to take that step not long before the…accident…that's separated us for all these years…"

Skyfire continued to speak for a while after that revelation, and some part of my brain was recording what he was saying to me somewhere, for future reference if nothing else. Another part of my brain was even responding to him when a response seemed to be necessary or expected. _Most_ of my brain, however, was just…reeling. All sorts of emotions were tumbling around in it. There was pity and empathy for Skyfire's difficult situation. There was revulsion in there, too…which perhaps wasn't fair of me, I realized, as I listened to Skyfire's words. He obviously knew a _very_ different Starscream than the Starscream that I knew. But overall, "screaming," so to speak, above all of the other emotions suddenly plaguing me, there was just this overwhelming sense of…complete and utter helplessness and a deep sense of foreboding.

Because I knew, of course, what Skyfire would now feel compelled to do. More than that, I totally understood _why_ he would feel that way, too. A couple of months ago, I wouldn't really have understood at all. But now…? Oh, now I understood all too well, and I couldn't help but feel, knowing the Starscream that Skyfire _didn't_ know, that attempting to contact and reason with him would be a monumental waste of effort on Skyfire's part. And, worse, it would be a disappointing and _heartbreaking_ waste of effort, too.

And of course, in the end, when he'd finished pouring out his heart to me, when he'd finished regaling me with tales of a Starscream that I could barely recognize, much less believe was real, Skyfire looked at me. _Really_ looked at me. His gaze was searching, penetrating. He was trying, no doubt, to determine whether or not I was understanding him at all.

"So you see, Jazz," Skyfire concluded sadly as he stared levelly at me, "I cannot be Starscream's enemy. I've tried. I've tried very hard to fit in here, with your Autobots and with your war…but I cannot do it. Your war is not my war, and I want no part of it. Any of it. So I…I can't go on like this. I can't face Starscream across a battlefield and pretend to be happy about it, all the while hoping that no one notices that the mere _thought_ of hurting him tears apart my very spark. I can't do it anymore, Jazz. I need to do what I must do. And what I must do is…is go away from here, away from all of you. I have to find Starscream, and I have to…to _reach_ him. Somehow."

As Skyfire turned his gaze abruptly away from me after that confession, no doubt not at all certain as to how I was going to react to all of his news, I drew in a huge breath, in order to try to center myself, before ever so slowly letting it out.

Did I understand him? On some level, yes. I was bonded now, myself; I could certainly understand the…pull that Skyfire had to be feeling and the confusion – the _hurt_ – that that pull would create for him, given the situation at hand. I could understand that, for him, hurting Starscream would be like hurting himself. But on many other levels, if only because I knew Starscream as he was _now_, I couldn't begin to understand the whole situation at all.

Yet, Skyfire was obviously in pain, emotional pain at least. Maybe even physical pain, for all I knew. And I had to do whatever I could to make it better. That was, of course, my "job." Sure, it was a self-assigned job…but it was still my job.

Silently, I reached up and over and laid a hand on Skyfire's arm, giving it a few absent pats of encouragement. Surprised, he looked sharply down at his arm, and then he stared intently, questioningly at me.

With way more ease than I felt, I whispered, "I understand, Skyfire. I understand."

Skyfire's expression quickly shifted to one of surprise, which wasn't completely unexpected. Jazz the goofball, the hedonist, the guy who couldn't be serious for more than a few seconds straight, understood him. It must have been quite the shock, I imagined. After all, I was often, ironically, a victim of my own carefree, freewheeling persona. Other people didn't seem to think that I could comprehend – much less care about – more serious things. But I could, and, more importantly, I _did_. Sometimes, I cared too much for my own sanity's sake, in fact.

"You…do?" was all that Skyfire could say for a moment, meanwhile, blinking dumbly at me. His gaze held mine even as I stood up and absently brushed off the layer of Earth's omnipresent dirt that insistently clung to me. "Really?"

I thought about that for a moment before sighing wearily and answering Skyfire honestly.

"I understand as well as I possibly can, Skyfire. That's about the best I can do right now. At the very least…Well, I can certainly understand the…attachment…that you must be feeling."

Skyfire nodded slightly, thoughtfully.

"I thought that you might understand or else…." he ventured hesitantly.

"…Or else you would never have told me anything," I finished for him, nodding in return. "I know. And…Primus help me, but I'll see what I can do, all right? I mean, you can leave us any time you want, of course. You're free to do so. But I'd _think_ that it would be nice to have a _welcoming_ place to come back to if… Well, if things don't work out exactly as you'd like them to."

Skyfire blinked slowly at me for a moment, uncertain, before he answered, "That…would be nice, indeed, Jazz. But I must confess that I am not certain that I would want everyone to—"

"Oh, I'm not gonna go and blab it to everyone," I assured him, interrupting, knowing what he'd been thinking. My gossipy reputation preceded me, naturally. "Really, I'm not as big of a blabbermouth as people think I am. I _am_ capable of keeping a secret when necessary, you know. So it'll be a strictly 'need to know' thing, all right? In fact, I can think of only one person, really, who _will_ need to know…"

"Optimus Prime," Skyfire said, with a certainty that bordered on…dread?

"Mmmmm-hmmmmm," I answered quietly.

Skyfire made a decidedly unhappy noise after a moment spent thinking about that, and then he announced, "_I_ should be the one to tell him, Jazz. It should not be your responsibility to…to…"

"Run interference?" I supplied when his voice trailed off uncertainly.

"Yes…Yes, exactly that."

I shrugged flippantly at that.

"Aw, don't worry your pretty little head about it, Skyfire" I cajoled, with way more cavalier confidence than I felt. "I'm _much_ more experienced than you are at breaking really freaky news to the ol' Fearless Leader. You just worry about…you, all right?"

Skyfire stared at me – He was thinking, no doubt; I knew the look from dealing with Prowl at his thinky-est – for quite a long while after that, long enough that I had to give in to the need to fidget a bit. My fidgeting apparently broke Skyfire out of his thinking process. Whether that was a good or a bad thing, though, I didn't know.

"All right," Skyfire said slowly, nodding to himself. He was obviously uncertain about the whole idea of confiding his personal situation to Optimus Prime, but he'd apparently decided to trust that I knew best. "And…thank you," he added, with a small but genuinely grateful smile.

I returned the smile and then said, only slightly ruefully, "Don't mention it."

I turned to leave then, but something made me pause just before transforming. I aimed one last concerned glance over my shoulder at Skyfire.

"Don't stay out too long, all right?" I said to him quietly. And, after Skyfire aimed a curious, questioning glance at me, I added, "I'll worry, y'know?"

Skyfire quirked a small, sad smile at me, but then wordlessly returned his gaze to the horizon, toward which the sun was lowering. Satisfied that he'd be all right, at least for the moment, I transformed and hit the road. But I didn't go directly back to Headquarters. Instead, I headed in completely the opposite direction, my destination the closest open highway. Skyfire, after all, wasn't the only one who needed to think for a good long while…


	5. Chapter 4

**_"Volunteers! Step forward!" _**  
_Jazz in "More Than Meets the Eye" _

There are some things in the universe that you just don't expect to hear. Ever. Like, for instance, you really don't expect to hear Grimlock all of a sudden reciting a soliloquy from _Macbeth_. You don't expect to hear Gears whistling a happy tune, or Huffer _not_ complaining, or Optimus Prime yelling in rage at the top of his voice.

Unfortunately, the latter was exactly what Prowl and I heard as we headed down the corridor toward Prime's office. We both stopped in our tracks, suddenly uncertain about our little self-assigned mission, and exchanged a startled sidelong glance.

"Uh-oh," I murmured, breaking the seconds-long silence as we stared worriedly at each other.

"Mmmm…" Prowl offered in wordless apprehension before adding, "This is certainly not an auspicious omen, Jazz. Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow…?"

After he said that, without even waiting for an answer from me, Prowl executed a hasty 180 in order to head back in the opposite direction. He nearly whacked me with a door panel in his haste as he turned, even. I caught his arm, though, and turned him around again before he could get very far.

"Don't you go borrowing my procrastination habit, Prowl," I teasingly admonished him as I hauled him around, using his momentum against him. "Let's just…go get this over with, all right?" And with that, without waiting for a reply from him, I headed off down the corridor again, doing so in a light-stepped, carefree, cheerful sort of way that I knew would annoy Prowl.

"Well," I heard Prowl glumly murmur behind me, before he began to follow slowly and reluctantly in my wake, "perhaps we can't make his day any _worse,_ at least…"

I really hate it when someone jinxes me that way…

When we reached our destination, Prowl and I approached Optimus' always-open door quietly, cautiously. Since I was in the lead, I was the one who got to warily peek around the doorjamb, scoping out the territory before invading it. And so it was me who first spied Optimus sitting at his desk. And what I saw wasn't all that encouraging, either. Prime's entire demeanor radiated…vast annoyance. He was leaning back slightly in his chair, his arms folded tightly across his broad chest. What I could see of his face in profile and above his faceplate was glaring ferociously at the computer screen in front of him, which I could just barely see was currently displaying…

…An ominously flashing red message that read "GAME OVER" in large, squared-off letters?

I had to fight to keep from laughing out loud…but I found that I couldn't hold back a snicker and a snide announcement of my presence. Much louder than was really necessary, I called out, "Damn thing's frustrating, ain't it, Prime?"

And once I said that, I had the pleasure of seeing Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots and staunch defender of Truth, Justice, and the American Way, practically leap out of his metal skin. I snickered at him as he whipped his head around to glare at me. He was irritated, no doubt, that he'd been caught, red-handed, goofing off.

"You have an annoying habit," Optimus Prime eventually grumbled at me after several seconds spent settling back into his skin and folding his arms across his chest again, "of being in the right place at the right time, Jazz."

"You noticed?" I replied with a goofy grin. "I'm _so_ touched, Prime."

In response, Prime made a noise that might have been annoyed but that was more likely at least secretly amused, but he didn't say anything else. So, that left the talking up to me, as usual… While I fished around in my brain, trying to think of what I was going to say to him, Prime just stared at me expectantly.

"You, uh… You got a minute, Op?" I finally asked hesitantly, before I thought the better of my whole plan. Such as my "plan" was, of course. "There's something I need to talk to you about, and it's even kinda sorta important…"

"For you, Jazz, I might have two minutes," Prime replied with a sigh. "Maybe even three, if you're really good," our fearless leader added before unfolding his arms, leaning forward a bit, and reaching out to turn off the screen in front of him with a vicious stab of one index finger. That accomplished, he angled an almost…apprehensive…look up at me and hesitantly asked, "But…why do I suddenly get that distinct sinking feeling that tells me I'm not going to _like_ whatever it is you're going to tell me?"

He was good, that Prime. Too good sometimes. Maybe the ability to mind-read was a job requirement or something. Scary thought, that, given the things that were often floating through my mind, especially lately…

"Um…" I hedged, hesitating. Then, clearing my throat nervously and trying to keep my voice steady and casual, I added, "Whatever gives you that idea, Prime?"

"Well…" Prime replied as he gestured mildly at Prowl, who was currently peeking warily over my shoulder, "for one thing, you're grinning way too widely. For another, you brought along some moral support."

"Who?" I responded, glancing over my shoulder and then reacting as if I was surprised to find Prowl hovering there. Then I shrugged, turned back to Prime, and casually asserted, "Who, him? Eh, whither I goest, he followeth nowadays."

"Mmmm…" Optimus murmured. And then he added, in a distinctly amused tone of voice and with his eyes dancing with merriment at Prowl, "He's rather like a ball and chain that way, yes."

I heard Prowl heave a long and exasperated sigh behind me while I snickered at that, and then he grumbled, "All right, I'm leaving now."

And he actually tried to do so, too, the creep…but I reached back and grabbed his arm again before he could make good his escape.

"Oh, no you don't," I chastised him. "We do this together, remember? You promised and everything."

Which was even true! Well, sort of, anyway…

The night before, I'd done a good amount of thinking after Skyfire's completely unexpected revelations to me about himself and Starscream. I'd spent hours just driving around, circling the general vicinity of Autobot Headquarters, thinking my little brain out. And that was, of course, an activity that was pretty alien to me. But I did it. Unfortunately, it didn't really help. All it did was give me a massive headache, so I had decided to return home. And when I'd finally returned to Autobot Headquarters quite late at night, I discovered that Prowl had waited up for me. Oh, he tried to make it look like he'd just stayed up to catch up on the work that he'd been neglecting of late, but I knew better. If nothing else, the second I'd walked into our quarters, he'd leveled That Look, that concerned look of his, at me and then, almost immediately, he'd begun spitting out the rapid-fire questions. And, eventually, I'd told Prowl everything, of course. It wasn't like I would've been able to keep it a secret from him for long, anyway.

Of course, I should have realized that the utter surrealness of the situation with Skyfire and Starscream would just blow poor Prowl's logical little mind. Oh, he could wrap his mind around the concept of Skyfire having a mate easily enough, sure. And because of…well, because of _us_…he could even intimately understand Skyfire's overwhelming desire to be with that person. But what Prowl couldn't quite seem to process was that Skyfire's mate was _Starscream_, of all people. And truthfully, even _I_ had a hard time picturing the two of them as a pair, even after hearing Skyfire's rhapsodic descriptions of a very different – an even _likeable_ – Starscream. And if _anyone_ could have comprehended the whole thing between Skyfire and Starscream, it should have been me. Because I'm goopy that way. Prowl, on the other hand… Well, poor Prowl couldn't comprehend the whole thing at all, and since he couldn't really comprehend the situation, it logically followed that he wouldn't be able to come up with a solution to the problem. _He_, in fact, had ended up asking _me_ what _my_ plan was.

Ah, sweet, sweet irony…

Of course, I didn't have a plan – That was what _Prowl_ was for – but by that point in the conversation between Prowl and me, I'd figured out that I just needed to dump the whole convoluted mess in Optimus Prime's lap and then convince him that Skyfire needed to go and that he needed to go with Prime's blessing. And I knew…or at least I _thought_…that I could do that, too. So, that was what I'd told Prowl, that I was just going to go have a chat with Big Red. And when I'd said that I was going to do that, Prowl had offered to accompany me. Since the prospect of talking to Optimus about the whole mess wasn't something that I relished having to do alone, I had latched onto Prowl's offer like a drowning human to a life preserver. So…

Well, maybe saying that Prowl had _promised_ to talk to Prime with me was a _tiny_ bit of an exaggeration. But still, he'd offered to go with me of his own free will. And so… Well, here we were.

"You do what together?" Prime was asking of me meanwhile, his tone of voice intensely curious. His words fully brought me back to the here-and-now, and I realized that he was talking to me. In answer, I felt my mouth try to jerk itself into a reflexive grin. I fought it back.

Instead, I deadpanned, "Y'know, that's a _mighty_ personal question there, Prime…"

I heard Prowl behind me heave another long-suffering and possibly mortified sigh, while Optimus just gave me an equally long-suffering – though distinctly amused – look.

"Stop with the stalling thing, Jazz," he said with the patience of a slightly exasperated saint. "Out with it. Now."

I hated it that Fearless Leader knew me so well, to the point that he could see right through one of my favorite delaying tactics. But see through it he did. So, resigned to the task at hand, I finally walked fully into Optimus Prime's office, rather than lingering in the doorway, from which I could make a quick escape if necessary. Prowl dutifully followed me, and he even had the good sense to make sure the door was locked behind us. It wouldn't do, after all, to have anyone barge in and overhear the conversation that the three of us were about to have… Trying to appear as casual as possible, I approached and perched myself, as was my habit, on one corner of Prime's desk. I figured that I might as well be comfortable…or at least try to look that way.

"You've got a problem on your hands, Prime," I informed him without preamble after I'd settled myself.

"Only one?" Prime replied archly. "Well, that's a relief."

"Well, only one problem that _I_ know of," I clarified. "Unfortunately, it's one of those doozy kinds of problems."

"And I have to remember not to kill the messenger when you tell me _all_ about it," Prime said, leaning wearily back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest, his entire bearing one big, strange mix of amusement, resignation, and deep apprehension. "Is that it, Jazz?"

"Yeah!" I answered with a big old grin. "Exactly. No killing Jazz allowed."

"I'll try to bear that in mind," Prime muttered before settling into staring at me expectantly while I tried to gather my thoughts into something resembling order. The previous night, I'd spent many restless hours pacing around my quarters, trying to decide how best to tell Optimus everything that I had learned. But even after all those hours, I hadn't figured out exactly what to say. In fact, I hadn't really thought of _anything_ to say; I'd resolved instead to just wing it as I went along. I was usually pretty good at that. I had found, though, that today was going to be an exception to that general rule. I was reduced to blurting out the first inane thing that came to mind.

"Have you noticed anything…odd…about Skyfire lately?" I hesitantly asked of Optimus Prime.

In reply, Prime gave me a strange, narrow-eyed look, as if that was the very last question on Earth that he'd expected me to ask of him. And I could see why he'd think the question odd, too. I mean, who'd have thought that anything would be odd about good old calm, quiet, reliable, affable, levelheaded _Skyfire_, of all people? But I, of course, had learned the hard way that looks and mannerisms could be deceiving. Now I just had to let Optimus Prime in on that little secret…

"Odd?" Optimus was echoing, meanwhile, all suddenly perplexed. "About Skyfire? Well…no, nothing really comes to mind… Why do you ask?"

He tilted his head inquisitively to one side as he regarded me, waiting for me to elaborate on what I'd said, no doubt hoping to glean some information from my reaction to what he'd said. And my reaction was…? Well, I heaved a deep, resigned sigh before I answered him, doing my best at winging it.

"Well…" I said, angling an imploring glance over at Prowl as I fished around in my mind for the right words to say. Unfortunately, Prowl just gazed mildly back at me. In fact, he folded his arms across his midsection and leaned back against the wall, getting comfy for the long haul. It didn't look like he was going to help me in the explaining department any time soon. It certainly would have _helped_ if he'd felt so inclined; Prowl was really good at explaining things in a blunt, logical, non-rambling, straightforward, anti-Jazzian kind of way. But for the moment it looked like he was content to be silent moral support. I was on my own.

"Well," I hesitantly began again with a long, resigned sigh, "I had a…conversation with Skyfire yesterday that was…uh, pretty enlightening."

"Enlightening," Optimus tonelessly echoed once again. It seemed that he was good at doing that. One might have thought that he was a parrot in disguise, even. It was odd that I hadn't noticed this habit of his before… "Enlightening _how_?"

Such direct questions! I _hated_ direct questions when I didn't have any answers for them. Sometimes, I wished that Optimus was as good at beating around the bush as I was. But he was more of a direct kind of guy. Why was it that I always surrounded myself with direct sort of people, the sort who didn't like to just shoot the breeze for no real reason other than to pass the time? Nope, I got Prowl. And Prime. Yippee. Sighing at my own unenviable position, I eventually asked of Prime, "How much do you _really_ know about Skyfire, Prime?"

Optimus mulled that one over for a long moment, leaning back in his seat, raising his arms to fold them behind his head, and staring up at the ceiling of his office as he mulled. Then he looked back at me, his eyes narrowed in what was probably suspicion.

"Practically nothing," he admitted. "But I suspect that _you_ know something that I don't know, Jazz. Something big, judging by the amount of stalling you've been doing since you got here…?"

"Bingo," I said with a nod, perversely relieved that at least for now he was directing the conversation. It meant that I didn't have to do it.

"And you've decided that I need to know about this whatever-it-is…?" Prime further ventured.

"Bingo again," I said, grinning. "Care to go for a hat trick, O Great Fearless Leader?"

"For that, Jazz," Prime replied with a humorless chuckle, "I'd have to have some clue as to what you're talking about. And I'm still not sure that I really want to know what you're talking about."

The understatement of the millennium, that was…

"Oh, _I'm_ sure you don't want to know," I answered Prime with a deeply pitying grin. "But, being the really great guy that I am, I'm going to tell you anyway."

"Joy," Optimus sarcastically responded. And after I snickered at him for that, he wearily added, "All right, then, Jazz… Out with it. I can take it…I hope."

I took a deep breath, figuring that I was likely about to embark on a rather long speech…although it turned out that that wasn't exactly the case….

"I had a long talk with Skyfire last night, Prime," I began. "He told me a lot of things about himself. Things that I never would have expected…"

"Like, for instance…?" Optimus prodded when my voice trailed off.

I glanced over at Prowl again, who gave me a deeply apprehensive look but still didn't say anything. I kept hoping that he'd take pity on me and take up the story but…no such luck. He just shrugged at me, his expression shifting to one of encouragement. In response, I took a deep breath and decided to just get the whole meeting over with. Dragging it out by beating around the bush certainly wasn't doing my sanity any good. Optimus had told me to come out with what I knew, and who was I to disobey a direct order, right? Right.

"Like for instance the fact that Skyfire's bonded," I announced, surprised that my voice sounded fairly casual about that revelation. Of course, I hadn't gotten to the really _good_ part yet…

"Really?" Optimus responded mildly. Mildly because I hadn't dropped the really big honkin' bomb on him yet… Being bonded was a rather rare condition in the grand Cybertronian scheme of things, sure, but it wasn't like it was super-surprising or anything.

"Really," I confirmed. "And his mate just happens to be right here on Earth, actually…"

That detail made Optimus stop and think. Rightfully so, too. After all, Skyfire hadn't shown any special affinity with any of the _Autobots_ on Earth. In fact, he tended to rigorously isolate himself from most if not all of us, and he wouldn't do that if he were bonded to one of us. So that, of course, left only the Decepticons as possibilities. True to form, Optimus Prime had connected those particular dots with disturbing swiftness. And as soon as he made that connection, his shoulders slumped and he slouched forward, rested his elbows on the desk in front of him, and buried his face in his hands.

"Ohhhhhh, Primus…" he moaned around a drawn-out and despairing sigh.

"That was exactly my reaction, too!" I crowed sympathetically. I even reached forward to pat him consolingly on the shoulder just before he decided to flop dejectedly back in his seat again.

"Who is it?" Optimus eventually asked of me, after a long moment spent staring meditatively up at the ceiling. His voice was quiet and remarkably composed, considering the implications of what I was telling him. "I really don't want to know, but tell me anyway," he added wearily.

For some reason, I felt a need to glance over at Prowl again, and for some reason, he actually decided to speak up this time.

"Starscream," Prowl said succinctly and flatly, betraying no trace of what he personally thought of the union. He just pushed himself away from the wall and wandered over to stand in my general vicinity.

Optimus jerked his head up at that, and, for a long moment after Prowl had spoken, he just goggled silently at Prowl. I imagined that if he'd had a proper mouth, his jaw would have slammed down on the desktop in front of him.

"Starscream?" Optimus finally managed to echo. "As in, Megatron's second-in-command?"

"The same," Prowl said with a grave nod. I admired his ability to impart shocking news to our Fearless Leader without emotion or fanfare. "From what Jazz told me last night, they knew each other and bonded before the war began, not long before Skyfire was lost here on Earth. And Starscream was a very different person then."

"I…would hope so," Optimus managed to grind out, after more long moments spent gawking stupidly at Prowl. After a stretch of time that seemed like hours, Prime added, "And now I suppose that Skyfire wants to be with…him."

It wasn't really a question, but I answered it as such.

"Yes," I said quietly.

Optimus turned his head to look at me then, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully at me. I had no idea what was going through his mind at the moment, but I knew without a doubt that he knew exactly what was going through _my_ mind.

"And you think," he said slowly, "that I should let him go."

It wasn't a question at all, and his tone of voice was almost…accusatory, as if I'd put ideas into Skyfire's head or something. The insinuation made me just a wee bit defensive.

"Frankly, Prime, he'll go whether you or I want him to go or not," I informed Optimus in a rather prickly tone of voice that carried not a trace of its usual cheer. "I know that because I know what he's feeling right now. I just think it would be better if he went with your blessing…and with the option to return if necessary, no questions asked."

Optimus' eyes widened at that for a moment. I didn't know if he was taken aback by what I'd said or by the tone with which I'd said it, but either way he stared at me for a very long moment, and the expression on his face was odd, as if he didn't know me. And then, without warning, he launched himself to his feet and started to pace frantically around his office.

"I… Surely you know that I can't let Skyfire do that, Jazz," Optimus Prime asserted, after finally coming to a rest and then slowly sinking down into his seat again. "Who knows what might happen to him? He's just not…He's not thinking straight. Starscream's not the person he…knows. He must realize that. He's a Decepticon and he'd surely take advantage of the situation. He'd be taken prisoner, interrogated… So this…this _thing_ would be dangerous not just for him, but for _all_ of us. Surely he realizes that. Surely _you_ realize that, Jazz?"

I didn't immediately answer him. In fact, after he said that, there was a long moment of complete silence. I fancifully thought that if there'd been a fly in the room, I could have heard it crawling on the walls. But otherwise I spent the time trying to think of something to say to Prime. I wanted to say something intelligent, something persuasive. Something that would convince Optimus that giving Skyfire his blessing to go do what he needed to do regarding Starscream was the only real option that was open to him. But for some reason…the words just weren't coming to me. That was starting to become something of an annoying habit of mine over the past couple of days. I hated it, and the more I thought about how much I hated it, the more that words refused to come to me.

But then, as it turned out, I shouldn't have worried.

"Prime…" Prowl chose to say quietly, gently, although his voice seemed obscenely loud in comparison to the dead silence that his words had broken. "If you _don't_ let Skyfire do this, then you'll be no better than Megatron."

At that, Optimus regarded Prowl with an openly shocked and slightly scandalized expression on his mostly-concealed face. No doubt he couldn't believe that Prowl would be so horrible as to compare him to his mortal enemy. But what Prowl had said was very true. I tended to think that, like Megatron, Prime saw great worth in Skyfire for what he could do for the Autobot cause without thinking all that much about what Skyfire might want and need for himself. Prime would just assume that Skyfire would be happy to be on the "good guy" side of the war and then think little – or even nothing – more of it. He wouldn't have taken into consideration that Skyfire had had a life before the war…and that, more importantly, that pre-war life, of which Starscream had obviously been a large part, was the _only_ life that Skyfire really knew.

Looking at things from a purely tactical perspective, I could sort of understand Prime's thinking. Skyfire, as a large aerial transport if nothing else, was a great asset to the Autobot cause. Even I couldn't deny that. But I tended to see the more personal side of any given issue. I tended to think about how circumstances affected people on a purely emotional level. Skyfire was a tactical asset, sure, but at what personal price for Skyfire himself? And for someone who valued personal freedom above all else…Well, Prime's attitude, to me, smacked of hypocrisy in the highest degree. And I was about to tell Prime just that…but Prowl beat me to it, speaking up again before Optimus could voice any objection to what Prowl had previously said.

"Megatron gave Skyfire no choice in the matter of his allegiance, Prime. He just assumed that Skyfire would be a loyal Decepticon, that he would do exactly what Megatron ordered him to do, no questions asked." Prowl asserted quietly.

He was leaning down now, resting his weight on both hands, which were splayed on the desktop right in front of Prime, so that he could look Prime directly in the eye…and, no doubt, so that Prime would have to look _Prowl_ in the eye when he answered. That was a favorite tactic of Prowl's, one that I certainly knew all too well. And then, tilting his head inquisitively to one side, Prowl fired off The Killer Question, phrased oh-so-calmly but at the same time oh-so-cuttingly: "Would you be just like Megatron and demand that Skyfire do exactly what _you_ want him to do? Would you refuse Skyfire the right to fight for his own bondmate?"

At that, Optimus Prime just…blinked. Sure, he and Prowl often disagreed, mostly because Prowl was more on the conservative side when it came to how to go about doing things while Optimus was more the gung-ho, go-get-'em hero type that tended to make practical, cautious Prowl cringe to his very core. And sometimes those disagreements of theirs had gotten quite…heated, quite loud, resulting in one or the other of them – usually Optimus – storming off in complete frustration with the other for an extended cooling-off period. But never had Prowl called Optimus's morals into question… Funny that I had been, internally, questioning his morals myself, at that moment…

"I'm…I'm not doing that, Prowl," Optimus finally spluttered under the onslaught of Prowl's expectant stare. "I _wouldn't_ do that. I'm just…just…"

"Just _what_?" Prowl asked when Prime's voice trailed off helplessly. His tone of voice was suddenly bordering on irritation which, coming from Prowl, was a definite rarity. One of Prowl's hands even balled itself into a fist against Prime's desktop. But then Prowl caught himself, calmed himself with a long, indrawn breath while Optimus Prime just silently stared at him, no doubt shocked by Prowl's uncharacteristic vehemence.

"Look, Prime," Prowl finally – and much more calmly – reasoned, "were I in your place, I'd understand the whole situation that you're facing no better than you do. I'd raise all the same objections that you've raised and for _exactly_ the same reasons. And I'd probably feel completely justified in following through with my convictions and then trying to keep Skyfire safe and away from the Decepticons at all costs…"

Prowl's calm, assured voice trailed off for a moment as he sought the words that he wanted to say. When he found them after a short moment, he said them in a tone laced with more emotion, possibly, than I'd ever heard from him – in public, at least.

"But I'm not in the same place you are, Prime," Prowl continued. "I'm seeing things from a completely different perspective, and I _know_ now how…how _torn_ Skyfire has to have been feeling over the past year or so, and how horrible that must have been for him. But you have no conception of what it must have been like, Prime, simply because you are not and never have been bonded. You can't imagine the emotions and…compulsions that are involved, especially in the sort of situation that Skyfire's in."

After a moment spent still staring at Prowl, radiating vast surprise, Optimus nodded understandingly.

"I understand that, Prowl," he said quietly. "As well as I can, at any rate . And I'm trying to imagine how it must be, really. I'm trying to see things through his eyes, but…"

"But you can't, Prime," I said gently, finally speaking up when Prime's voice trailed off uncertainly. "You have to trust that, just this once, Skyfire himself knows better than all of us what's best for him. You have to let him try to reach Starscream. If you don't… Well, if you don't, you'll have trampled all over the principles that you claim to uphold, and you'll have destroyed Skyfire in the bargain, too. Could you live with all that, Prime? Honestly?"

It was a good speech, I thought, one that cut to the heart of the matter without being all flowery. Optimus Prime stared at me thoughtfully for quite a long while after I finished that speech, too…and then he heaved a long and world-weary sigh, but it was still another quite long while until he actually spoke up.

For my part, I spent the time staring in wonderment at Prowl. Going into this discussion with Prime, I hadn't been entirely sure of Prowl's stance on the whole thing regarding Starscream and Skyfire. He'd been distinctly quiet after I'd told him the whole tale of woe the previous night, and he hadn't said much to me about it earlier, before we'd left for Optimus' office, either. I knew that he had been thinking, methodically turning over alternatives in his mind, and that he'd reach a decision about where he stood…eventually. Well, apparently he'd reached that decision already, and he'd further decided to make his position on the subject eminently clear. Later, I would have to properly thank him for supporting me so vehemently…

"Sometimes…Sometimes, I really hate you, Jazz," Optimus Prime finally decided to announce. His tone of voice was resigned, and it had the effect of abruptly pulling my thoughts away from pleasant thoughts about how, exactly, I was going to thank Prowl for supporting me.

"_Moi_?" I answered innocently. "How could anyone ever hate sweet little _moi_?"

"Easily," Optimus grumbled. And then, over my snickering, he added, "All right, all right, I'll call Skyfire in for a talk this afternoon, give him my blessing to…go do whatever he needs to do. I just hope I don't regret it. And I hope that _he_ doesn't regret it, either."

"He may very well regret it, Prime," Prowl said quietly, seriously. "But he…can't do anything else."

"Mmmm," Prime murmured noncommittally. "Poor guy, on so many different levels… Please, if I ever start talking about finding myself a bondmate, will you two do me a favor and…kill me or something?"

One corner of Prowl's mouth curled upward in amusement.

"No problem, Prime," he promised.

"Hey, we'll even make it a _painless_ death," I added with a cheerful grin.

"Thank you _ever_ so much, Jazz," Prime replied with a smirk in his voice that of course didn't show on his face. "Now scram, both of you. I've got thousands of rampaging demons from hell to kill on my computer here."

Prowl and I exchanged an amused look and then, as one, we turned and headed for the door. And I don't know about Prowl, but I felt a ten-ton load of bricks fall off my shoulders as we headed off to go about the rest of the day's business.


	6. Chapter 5

**_"Monster? I am no monster." _**  
_Megatron in "Autobot Spike" _

Pushing myself up onto my hands and knees, I began to rise slowly to my feet. What I had just experienced had consumed my energy stores almost to the point of unconsciousness and although I had recovered quickly, it nevertheless took me an uncomfortably long moment, once I'd haltingly jerked myself to my feet, to entirely regain my equilibrium. I felt…dizzy, utterly drained, and completely exhausted. I even staggered a bit as I took a cautious, experimental step forward before catching myself and determinedly straightening my shoulders. And I accomplished _that_ only by sheer force of will, since it seemed that I had no real strength at that moment.

I knew, of course, what I needed to do. I needed to recharge. I needed to return to the private sanctity of my quarters in order to recover from what had been a truly momentous occasion. I had just reached the door after steadily, carefully plodding over to it, fully intending to return to my own quarters, when a small scuffling noise and a muffled moan behind me reminded me that I was not alone in the room. I turned around sharply, caught and steadied myself again when the sudden movement precipitated another wave of dizziness, and regarded Starscream, on the floor behind me, with a scornful look on my face.

"Get yourself to the repair bay, Starscream," I barked at him.

It was customary for me to have to remind him of the necessity of such a visit after one of our…encounters. And this time, as I stared down at him, I saw that Starscream looked somewhat more worse for the wear than usual. As I watched, he struggled to push himself up to a halfway-seated position. Gingerly favoring his bashed-in side, he pushed himself up, crawled laboriously to the nearest wall, and then slouched in exhaustion against it. Curled into a defensive ball, his entire body was shaking, as if he hadn't the strength to hold himself even halfway upright, and he was covering his face with both hands. Yes, he was definitely having difficulty recovering, as well. That wasn't surprising, I supposed, given that our…encounter…had this time been of a very different sort. It had been new and…deeply exciting. Our relationship had been taken to a new level, I knew. And yet I was now nothing but impatient for the entire incident to be over. I had accomplished what I wanted to accomplish, and I wanted only to escape from Starscream's weak, draining presence and return to my own quarters, where I could recover from our interaction in privacy.

"Starscream ! " I barked, propping my arm up against the doorjamb and leaning heavily on it. "Acknowledge me!" All I could think about was the recharge berth in my own quarters and how badly I wanted to be in it. I did not have the will to deal with his weakness. Not this time…

In response to my order, Starscream slowly raised his head, leveling a dazed and unfocused stare on me.

"As you…command…Megatron," he responded listlessly, his voice slurring, after a long moment spent staring stupidly at me.

Starscream's voice was trembling and unsteady, and there was a pained hitch in it, as well. I knew that he was likely in more pain than usual after one of these incidents. Not that I cared, of course. In fact, I was glad of it. Perhaps for once the pain that he was experiencing would make the lesson that I had just taught him stick in his stubborn head. I waited impatiently for him to say something else, but he just continued to stare blankly at me, his expression indicating a complete lack of recognition. That empty expression, of course, served to remind me of the next question I needed to ask of him.

Over the eons, our encounters had become a predictable routine. They happened between us in a comfortably familiar progression of events: Angry confrontation followed by me reminding him, usually in violent ways, of who was in command followed by a bond followed by a need to verbally remind Starscream quite literally of who he was. Sighing, I walked back toward Starscream, pushing aside my own current lack of strength and equilibrium, and stood over him, staring expectantly down at him. In response to my stare, he flinched and lowered his head again, instead of defiantly meeting my gaze, as he had been doing before I had had to bring him back in line. His flinching and cringing were good signs. For one thing, they meant that, mentally, he was still there, still with me, still aware of his surroundings, which wasn't always the case after I'd been forced to beat him into submission. But far more importantly, it meant that Starscream was once again recognizing his subordinate position within our relationship, and he was showing that submission in a physical way.

"Starscream," I said as gently as I could under the circumstances, forcibly pushing aside my overwhelming fatigue and my lingering irritation with him, "do you remember who you are?"

To an outsider, it may have seemed a strange question to ask of Starscream, but I had had to ask it of him for as long as I'd been bonded to him. It was as if he had some irreparable short-circuit in the part of his brain that kept track of his identity. Most of the time, I would have to explain it all to him, remind him of who he was now and the worthless, pitiful creature he had been before he had met me, before I could leave his quarters to go about my own business. It was inconvenient at times – When I wanted to leave, I wished to leave right away – but on the other hand it afforded me an opportunity to reinforce in Starscream's mind the very real fact that without me, he was nothing. It was an opportunity to remind him of how much he owed me for all the successes he had achieved in his life so far. Doing so helped to keep him in line, at least for a little while.

"I remember who I am, yes," came Starscream's weak reply. His voice was still shaking, faint, and unsteady. No doubt, he was attempting to assimilate what had just happened between us and determine what it meant for our future, just as I was. I was not sure if I really believed that he truly remembered who he was or not, but at the moment, I genuinely did not care. Recharge and sleep were all that I cared about, all that I desired. I wasn't in the mood to cater to Starscream's peculiar weaknesses.

"Excellent," I said, nodding crisply, approvingly. "Then I expect to see you functioning normally at the mission briefing precisely seventy-six hours from now."

With that, I turned on one heel and left Starscream's quarters without waiting for a reply and without looking back. Although everything inside me fought against the effort, I forced myself to stand up straight and assume the expected stance of a fearless and mighty leader walking confidently to my own quarters. It would not do for one of my subordinates to see the great Megatron, ruler of Cybertron and commander of all the Decepticons, staggering wildly down the hall, barely able to put one foot in front of the other. Still, it was an effort simply to walk in a straight line. I had to fight for every straight, steady step I took. But as difficult as my progress down the corridor was, I still couldn't help but smile inwardly as I considered the irony of the situation I had just left behind.

The unique bond I had just experienced with Starscream had left me feeling more confident and more certain of my control over the individuals and the circumstances that surrounded me since awakening on Earth just over a year ago. Yet that same bonding that had given me such a powerful high had also left me so completely exhausted that I was not able tap into that power and use it…yet. Irony, yes, but not really a concern. I knew that there would be ample time and opportunity to utilize that feeling of confidence and complete control once I was re-energized.

As I made my way down the corridor to my quarters, I passed one of the new, young Seekers that were here, training on Earth. He immediately stopped in his tracks and saluted me crisply. I vaguely remembered meeting this particular recruit before, once or twice, but his name now escaped me. So I just smiled and nodded as I passed by him. He was unbelievably young but eager and willing to follow my orders to the letter, no matter what was being asked of him. That was a good quality. Indeed, one of the advantages of young recruits such as that one was that they could more easily be molded to my needs, without having been tainted by past experiences...

Despite his age, the young Seeker I'd passed nevertheless gave the impression of being much older than he actually was. That was entirely un like Starscream who, for someone who was at least as old as I was, had always acted like a mere child. That childish trait had been endearing in its own strange way at first, but it had grown old quite quickly. And recently, I had found myself becoming especially intolerant of such behavior. I suspected that part of the reason for Starscream's chronic immaturity was his inability to truly let go of the person he had been before the war. Perhaps that was why he'd always had those peculiar little identity crises after our bonds, as well. Who could know? Starscream had always been as baffling as he was brilliant. I knew that that bewildering nature of his was somehow tied to his past, to something that had happened to him before he had come under my influence, but I had never been able to pinpoint the exact cause of his more perplexing behaviors.

Not that it really mattered, of course. The past was the past, and I rarely thought about it, much less dwelled in it. The past was completely out of my control, and I believed that it was a weakness to dwell on things that I had no power to change. It was the present and the future on which I chose to concentrate because that was where victory would be found… Which was why I found it decidedly odd that I was suddenly beginning to reminisce about how Starscream and I had first met, many millennia ago. Perhaps it was an unpleasant aftereffect of the new and different kind of bond that Starscream and I had just experienced. I was too tired to care, so I just let the memories flow, hoping that if I didn't fight it, it would pass quickly…

Out of a class of three thousand at the War Academy, Starscream had been at the top of the ranks in every category. The Great War had only just begun a few years before when I'd heard of this amazing new recruit. What I remember most vividly, however, was being completely surprised when I finally did meet Starscream. I had been expecting a quiet, intelligent, and competent warrior who was obedient to his commanders but who could also plan an attack and effectively lead other warriors into battle. At least, that had been what I had been looking for at the time, what I had hoped for, because that was what I had needed most. The Decepticons had been a young organization at the time, and I had needed an injection of some young, impressionable, but very sharp new recruits in order to bring about my vision of what Cybertron should be.

What I had found when I had finally met Starscream, however, was an angry, determined, yet completely unpredictable individual who regularly argued with his superiors, rebelling against their teachings. Paradoxically, however, he had also seemed to have an insatiable thirst for knowledge garnered from any source. In short, Starscream had been an unstoppable force, devouring and learning everything that was put before him and then demanding to be given more. Always more. And, indeed, there had been no denying the fact that he was the best at everything. In that sense, he had been – and still was – an enigma. Those given to rebellion and defiance usually weren't the ones who excelled at everything they attempted at the Academy. I had known that there had to be a reason why Starscream was as strange as he seemed to be.

In an attempt to discover that reason, I had pored over all of Starscream's records thoroughly, and – surprisingly, given his erratic behavior – all had seemed to be in order there. Before joining the Decepticons, Starscream had been quite an accomplished scientist who had won the praise and admiration of his peers as well as his superiors, although it was noted that he had a decidedly antisocial streak. I had also been surprised to learn that he'd also had a bondmate at one time, who had apparently died in an explosion, some experiment that had gone horribly wrong, that had resulted in many casualties.

Upon reading all that, I had begun to have doubts about Starscream. Even back then, I already detested scientists as being the useless dreamers that they are, with no ambition whatsoever, no vision , and to some extent I had a similar opinion of engineers. Starscream had heavy amounts of both disciplines in his background. While engineers, at least, could be useful to some extent – if they could survive their own experiments – I had no use for pure scientists. Plus, I had wondered if the loss of his bondmate had anything to do with Starscream's impulsive behavior or his problems with authority, so I had decided to check his psychological evaluation. According to the report, the accident that had killed his mate had happened so long ago that he hardly had any memory of it. This had been reassuring as well as puzzling. It had been reassuring because, from what I had observed since the war had begun, some warriors became completely and irreversibly disabled and useless if their mates were killed, but that had not seemed to be the case with Starscream at all.

In fact, he had seemed determined to get on with his life, even to change it by making a drastic career path change from science to war. Starscream had not seemed to be overly affected in any negative way by the loss of this bondmate of his. It was reassuring, yes. Yet, it was also puzzling because I had assumed that Starscream's reckless disregard for authority could be traced back to that loss. Had he been driven to near-insanity by the abrupt loss of a bondmate, I would have had some explanation for Starscream's oddities. But that, apparently, hadn't happened. So, I had concluded that his behavior was simply natural for him. Once I'd drawn that conclusion, the question had simply become one of whether or not I could deal with him and his behavior, whether or not I could still mold Starscream to reflect the vision I had for a top-ranking warrior under my command.

And in that regard, I could not have overlooked Starscream's abilities and accomplishments at the Academy. I had known that I needed warriors like Starscream. And at the time, I had convinced myself that under my focused personal tutelage, Starscream's emotional instabilities could be accommodated and eventually corrected. I had been determined to succeed because I knew that, once those quirks were expunged from his psyche, I would have in Starscream the individual that I had been looking for when I'd undertaken the trip to the Academy: the perfect second-in-command, the perfect protégé.

So, in the end I had taken Starscream from the Academy to live and train with a small handful of young Decepticon warriors with whom I was personally working at my small base of operations. Skywarp, of course, had also been amongst that handful. In fact, I had already begun to groom Skywarp to be my second-in-command when Starscream had abruptly entered the picture. But Skywarp had had only two things going for him at the time: natural – albeit untrained, unfocused, and unpolished – leadership ability and an undying loyalty to me. I had thought Skywarp to be something of a diamond in the rough, and I had been willing to work with him, refine him. But once I had discovered Starscream… Well, there was no way that Skywarp could have competed with Starscream's lightning-quick mind and relentless determination and ambition. Grooming Skywarp would have taken many years, years that I could not have afforded to spend if my plans for Cybertron's future were to come to fruition in a timely manner. Starscream had been naturally further along the road to being a perfect second than Skywarp had been. So of course, Starscream had eventually replaced Skywarp in training to be my second, and that has ever since been a point of contention between the two of them. The controlled enmity between them had had an unexpected benefit, in that I had always used the antagonism between them to my own advantage. Unfortunately, once Thundercracker had unceremoniously injected himself into Skywarp's life, his influence had distracted Skywarp, dampened his jealousy of Starscream. He had become a sort of peacemaker between the two of them, especially so since we'd been on Earth…

At the thought of Thundercracker, my reverie was momentarily broken, and I let out a long and somewhat frustrated sigh. He was becoming…a problem. Thundercracker had dampened many things about Skywarp over the past several millennia, not just his enthusiasm for reporting Starscream's dubious activities to me, and I was growing increasingly suspicious of him and his motives. In fact, the only reason that I continued to tolerate his presence was because I knew that I needed Skywarp and because, together with Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp were an almost unbeatable combination in the air. So, Thundercracker was an effective warrior, for the moment…but I knew something would have to be done about him soon.

I wearily rubbed my forehead at the thought. Something would need to be done about Thundercracker soon, yes...but not today. Thundercracker was still quite useful for now. When that usefulness was spent, however, then I would deal with him. At the moment, though, all that I cared about was my quarters, which I had finally reached. As the doors swooshed welcomingly open in front of me, I contacted Soundwave in the Control Room and ordered that I was not to be disturbed under any circumstances for the next several hours. And then, making my way over to the recharge berth, I lowered myself wearily down onto its hard, flat surface.

I was glad to be alone and secure within my quarters at last. My quarters were my sanctuary, the only place in the entirety of Decepticon Headquarters that was mine and mine alone. I preferred to keep them uncluttered and, usually, darkened. Darkness and a lack of clutter promoted clear thought on my part. So, here I had devised grand plans…and here I had retreated to recover when those grand plans had occasionally failed miserably. My quarters were completely under my own control, and with that control came a sense of security and as much peace of mind as a leader could ever have. So of course no one was ever permitted to enter my quarters, not even Starscream. I had come to think of my private quarters as almost an extension of myself in many ways. Therefore, access to this place was strictly forbidden just as surely as access to my mind and to my spark was forbidden.

As I lay there, enjoying the security and comfort of my quarters and allowing myself to relax in preparation for recharge, a nagging thought crept into my mind. I quickly realized that it wasn't a thought but…a memory. Primus, what was it with this sudden urge to dwell on things of the distant past? I tried to fight the urge, tried to focus on the next strategy to use against the Autobots that had been slowly forming in my head. I tried to concentrate on formulating a list of the resources I'd need in order to carry out that strategy, tried to concentrate on thinking about who I would assign to oversee what aspect of the plan. In short, I tried to keep my mind busy so that no part of it would be available for pondering anything else in the past…but it was of no use. That cursed little memory fought its way equally tenaciously to the surface of my thoughts.

It was another memory of Starscream, of course. It was a memory of the one and only time I had actually let someone into the forbidden sanctuary that was my quarters…and my spark. I thought about fighting the memory with all I had in me…but I knew that I had little left. The bond with Starscream had almost completely exhausted me, and the walk to my quarters, as short as that walk had been, had consumed what little energy I'd had left after that. So in the end, I let the memory flow, hoping that I could somehow fall into recharge in the middle of it and thus forget about all of the nonsense that was suddenly plaguing me…

I had never intended, of course, to bond with anyone. In fact, I found the whole concept of voluntarily allowing someone into my spark and mind so that they could share my thoughts and memories and knowledge to be completely revolting. I was repulsed by the very notion of it. Every part of my being rebelled against the idea of sharing any of myself with anyone. Why would I ever want to dilute all the knowledge that I had acquired, all the skills that I had learned, and everything that I was by sharing it with someone who was inherently inferior to me? And why would anyone willingly relinquish sole authority and control of their life to someone who could misuse it or, worse, completely waste it, as I believed that Thundercracker, for instance, was wasting Skywarp's life? I could not understand why anyone would voluntarily do any of that.

No, I had had no desire to bond with anyone, least of all Starscream. But it had happened and, oddly enough, my willingness to do so had stemmed from a simple desire to help Starscream become a better warrior, not because of any feelings of love or affection toward him. Love and affection were for the weak. They brought about nothing but chaos. They made the individual feeling such an emotion sentimental, and, most disgustingly, vulnerable. Still… I could not honestly say that Starscream and I had not been drawn to one another from the very beginning. Despite his rebelliousness, I knew that he harbored an adoration of me, a sort of devotion to me that Skywarp, even given his intense loyalty to me, even given his cheerful willingness to do whatever I asked of him, didn't have. Starscream back then had been willing to do anything that I asked of him, indeed, but it had not been out of fear or mindless obedience or devoted loyalty, as it was with Skywarp. No, it seemed as though Starscream, back then, had worshipped the very ground I walked on, as if he had regarded me as some kind of idol, a perfect person to be emulated and adored. And slowly, as I had worked with him, Starscream began to depend on me for his every thought, his every action. For a while, I had been the only one in authority that Starscream would not defy. For a while, I had had complete control over every aspect of Starscream's life.

Ahhhhhhh, how things do change…

Starscream had had no friends back then. No one liked him. I had been the only one who seemed to be able to tolerate his presence for any length of time. For me, it was easy to tolerate Starscream, and we had ended up spending much time together. And I had taught him everything I knew. I had tested him and drilled him and sharpened his skills in every conceivable manner. Still, he had been reluctant to go into actual battle, always saying that he hadn't yet learned enough, even though his simulation scores were always remarkably high. But since the Autobots had been gaining a foothold in one of the northern sectors of Cybertron, I knew that I was going to need Starscream's assistance in an assault to recover that lost territory. He had been nervous about the prospect of battle, falling back on the pacifistic notions that he had harbored in his previous life as a scientist. But his fear of disappointing me eventually overrode that nervousness, and he had reluctantly agreed to accompany me on that mission.

I smiled to myself as I remembered that particular battle. Like most of the battles I'd waged on Cybertron, the Decepticons had won that one. Remembering that victory made me keenly aware of how much I missed having so many consistent, long-lasting victories now, in the present. Earth, I knew, was a curse, one that delighted in tormenting me…

Nevertheless, Starscream had won his first battle, but his victory had not been without a few consequences. For one thing, Starscream had been seriously injured during the course of the battle…and I had been surprised to find myself genuinely concerned for him, more concerned than I had been about anyone else at the time. Looking back, I remembered wondering what in the universe I'd do without Starscream if he were ever terminated. I recalled at that moment having to stop and carefully analyze my feelings. I had known that I was not in love with him, at least not in the way that most would define the emotion. But somehow Starscream had managed to become something more to me than just another officer under my command. I wasn't quite certain what the feeling that I was experiencing was, and I didn't waste time trying to figure it out; I had just known that it was there. Starscream had become…necessary to me.

Some time later, after Starscream had recovered from his battle damage, I had found out from one of the lower-ranking officers that had been a member Starscream's unit that Starscream had never fired off a single shot during the entire battle. That had been curious information, indeed, given Starscream's usually volatile personality. I had decided to question him about it, to see if it was true. After all, choices such as the one that he'd made could make the difference between winning and losing a battle. So, that was when I had decided to invite Starscream to my quarters one evening, ostensibly to discuss strategies for our next assault. It had been, of course, an unusual request. I had been as scrupulous about my privacy back then as I was now, and I had never invited anyone to my quarters for any reason, much less to discuss battle strategies. But Starscream hadn't seemed to think anything of it, so he had shown up that evening with a commpad in his hand, ready to learn.

Starscream and I had discussed combat strategies that night, and we had come up with a plan that later delivered a crushing blow to the Autobots and a great victory for us. But after that, we had talked lightly about the various goings-on within the base. And then, when I had sensed that he was relaxed enough, I had decided to question Starscream about his actions – or rather his lack thereof – during that first assault. He had been surprised by my questions, and his bleak expression had made it quite clear to me that he was not altogether excited over the notion of coming up with answers to them.

I remember sitting down close to him and putting my arm around him, a memory that made me shudder in my recharge berth to think back on it . I knew that I would never do such a thing now, at least not in the same caring, comforting, sympathetic manner I had used back then. After all, the only thing that spoke to Starscream now was a good blow to the head. Of course, we had both been very different individuals back then…

When I had put my arm around Starscream, though, he had instantly relaxed and leaned into me. I sensed his longing to be close to me – or at least to someone – as if it was something familiar to him, something that he missed and that he needed. The gesture had seemed to comfort him, to give him confidence, for after I asked him about the battle and his behavior again, Starscream had finally admitted that he'd never taken a life before. He had been a scientist for his entire existence prior to joining the Decepticons, and he had never had reason to hate anyone enough to justify killing them.

For a moment after Starscream's hesitant revelation, I had been repulsed by it. Any inability to hate or to fight or to shoot to kill had been and still was a profound weakness in my eyes. Yet, Starscream's true nature had been as a scientist, with all that entailed, including a certain pacifistic mindset…but in my mind that had not made him completely beyond hope. He had come extraordinarily far in the years that I'd worked with him. He had slowly become a very valuable, if not irreplaceable, asset to me. Frankly, I had needed him, and at the time I had been willing to do whatever I could to help him overcome his apprehensions and inhibitions. I knew that there had to be something that I could do about them. I had expended too much effort on Starscream to give up on him.

It had been then, of course, that I had made a fateful decision, one that eventually proved to be both blessing and curse. Usually more of the latter than the former.

Even before I had met Starscream, I had on occasion idly wondered exactly how much one could influence someone else through a bond. Indeed, that had been the only aspect of bonding that had truly intrigued me. Specifically, given the situation with Starscream at the time, I had begun to wonder how much of an impact a bond with me plus constant exposure to the issue that stumbled him – In this case, the taking of a life – would have on Starscream. I wondered if perhaps my direct influence would be enough to cure him of his weakness. It had also occurred to me, as I had sat there with Starscream leaning against me, that perhaps I could also directly influence Starscream's ability to lead others as well, which was his other main weakness. The possibilities were…exciting, certainly. To have a second-in-command who was bonded to me and who was therefore almost an extension of myself had been a very enticing prospect, indeed. After all, one thing that was certain was that Starscream would have been hindered, if not rendered completely useless, if he hadn't developed the ability to lead or to kill. I could not have had that in a second-in-command.

So, Starscream had agreed to bond with me that night. I could still remember that first bond very clearly. It was the first – and last – time I had given anything of myself to anyone. It had been a remarkable experience, and it had actually taken an incredible amount of willpower not to continue to give after that. But from that point on, it was only Starscream who gave of himself during a bond. I could not afford to let him in any more than he already was. I was to be the one influencing him , after all, not the other way around. I was also quite pleased to find no trace of that former mate of Starscream's floating around within the bond that formed between the two of us. That would have…complicated things.

My theory had proven correct, though, much to my gratification. Only a few weeks had passed before Starscream had killed his first Autobot. After that, after he had gotten a taste of true power, it had not been long at all before he was leading Decepticon squadrons to massacre entire communities of Autobot sympathizers all over Cybertron. The only problem had been that the bond between us proved to have one unfortunate side effect that even to this day I had to keep constantly in check. That side effect was that with every victory he achieved, Starscream gained more self-confidence, and with that self-confidence came a hunger for more victories. He began to demand more command influence, more power…and more of me.

Starscream of course had never received any of those things, but I had understood what he was feeling. In fact, I liked to think that those desires had been wrought in him as a direct result of our bond, from my intimate, direct influence over him. I knew that hunger for power and control, after all. I knew it intimately well. I had heard it called an addiction – Certainly, Optimus Prime has thrown that accusation at me on more than one occasion – but I believed that, when placed in the right hands, that hunger was more a means to a glorious end. And that end was not one in which I was going to share equally with Starscream.

Yet, Starscream had almost immediately begun to reason that, since we were bonded together, all aspects of command had become our combined domain, not a domain that was mine alone. At one point, he had even proclaimed to be my very equal. Of course, when he had acted up in such a way, I had merely had to beat some sense back into him. No one, after all, would ever be my equal, and there were many times that I had had to remind Starscream of that, usually in ways that I had thought he would not easily forget.

So during all those years on Cybertron, Starscream and I had fought and argued and sometimes battled. But we had also had many successes. The dynamics of our relationship may have seemed unusual to outside observers, but for us it had worked, and I would not have had it any other way. I had had more control over Starscream than I had even dreamed possible, and we had achieved heights of victory that even I had not envisioned. I smiled as I remembered our final major campaign, the one that had resulted in the complete conquest of Cybertron, that final glorious victory for the Decepticons that had splintered the Autobots into shattered, fragmented enclaves. Optimus Prime had gone into hiding with a paltry handful of warriors who were foolish enough to remain loyal to him.

Things had been so incredibly good on Cybertron. What a stark contrast to how life had become here on Earth. I didn't entirely understand why, but since we had arrived on this accursed planet known as Earth, we had endured one humiliating defeat after another. The Autobots quickly established some sort of alliance with the human natives, and by some unexplainable means it actually worked to both of their advantages. But perhaps most aggravating of all, at least personally, was Starscream's extreme change in behavior towards me. Yes, he had always been greedy for my position and my power; he thought he deserved to share in my glory. And yes, he had always had a tendency to push and poke and needle me until I lost all control and was forced, sometimes quite violently, to beat him back into his rightful place. But lately, since arriving on Earth, all of those personality quirks that made Starscream uniquely Starscream had become exaggerated, intensified to the point that, if he had been difficult to deal with before, he had recently become beyond insufferable. In fact, I suspected that he was going insane.

True, everyone had had to change and adapt to the challenges of living and fighting on what was a very alien world to us, but with Starscream, the changes seemed to be more drastic and dangerous than they were in any of the other Decepticons. Thundercracker, for instance, had become broodier, more indecisive, and more withdrawn since our arrival on Earth. Skywarp had become, if anything, more indolent. But Starscream…? Starscream only became bolder, more demanding, and infinitely more insufferable than he had been at any time in the past. Of course, he certainly was not and never would be dangerous to me . I knew that no matter how many threats issued from his foolish mouth, none of them would ever come to fruition. None of them would ever really affect me. I chuckled softly to myself as I thought about Starscream's constant attempts at trying to destroy me.

"Now who would punish you, if you killed me, Starscream?" I mused aloud, smiling fondly up at the dim light streaming from the recessed fixture installed in the ceiling directly above the recharge berth upon which I was laying. "Who would do that for you if you were to destroy me?"

It was true that, from the very beginning, Starscream had seemed to invite punishment, as if for some cosmic reason unknown to me, he thought that he deserved it. So he'd bicker with me, heatedly argue with me, and purposefully provoke me until I had to scream at him to shut up or go away. Most of the time – back on Cybertron, at least – that had been all that was necessary to quiet him. Occasionally, he'd need to be brought down physically, but those occasions had been rare, especially so because I usually assigned him to duties that took him to the opposite side of the planet from me. We had had room to move, room to be apart, on Cybertron. Here on Earth, however, the Decepticons only had one effective base of operations, so Starscream and I were always together. And now, especially recently, simply yelling at Starscream wasn't nearly enough to discourage his wayward behavior. It was insane, I knew, but I was absolutely convinced that Starscream wanted to be beaten. And I, of course, graciously obliged him. Because if I didn't, I knew that he would drive me insane.

I didn't understand why Starscream seemed to be driven to seek punishment for some secret sin, nor did I necessarily wish to understand why he did so. All I knew was that, ever since we awakened on this Primus-forsaken planet, Starscream's demands on my patience had increased astronomically, and my tolerance for his antics had been worn dangerously thin. He had begun to deliberately sabotage my plans at every turn, and he blundered about as if he had suddenly forgotten everything that I had taught him on Cybertron. It was nothing less than infuriating. Whenever I thought about it, I would feel anger rising in me. Even now, I clenched my fists, imagining that they were wrapped around Starscream's throat…

It took me a moment to calm myself. After all, I was attempting to relax in order to be able to slip into recharge. I should have known that thinking about Starscream and his increasingly infuriating behavior would not be conducive to such a thing… I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing myself toward calm, focusing on the positive aspects on the relationship that existed between Starscream and me.

There were such positive aspects, after all. There was, after all, one curious thing that I had discovered since being on Earth and having to deal with Starscream's increasingly erratic behavior. That was that beating Starscream into submission tended to have a rather cathartic side effect on my part. I always seemed to feel fulfilled and empowered after such an encounter. It was as if I subconsciously equated putting Starscream in his place with putting everything else in its proper place, and the subsequent euphoria was…addictive. I found that more and more often Starscream's behavior ended up provoking me into beating him, whereas before the same behavior might have earned him only a stern lecture, precisely because of the high that beating Starscream gave me. Besides, stern lectures hardly worked on him anymore; physical discipline still worked very well.

And now… Now I had discovered an even deeper and more satisfying benefit, for no words could accurately describe the sensations I had experienced just a few hours ago. And it had come about quite by accident. I had been angry…no, I had been infuriated with Starscream. I had wanted to kill him, and I had almost convinced myself, as I'd marched to his quarters where I knew that he'd been awaiting me, that I was going to do so. Oh, it was not because I was really going to miss that piece of human-built scrap they called Nightbird, of course, but simply because Starscream, in all of his outrageous, rebellious arrogance, had actually had the nerve to try to take her from me. I had had plans for her, yes, and I had chosen to taunt Starscream with talk of replacing him with her, but I had not thought Starscream stupid enough to actually believe my taunts.

Still, I had done my best to protect him from doing something that would require me to discipline him afterward. I had warned him to stay away from Nightbird. I had even caged him so that he couldn't botch up my plans. But it had all been to no avail, of course. As was typical of Starscream, he had instead chosen to defy me and take matters into his own hands and thus bring about his own punishment. He had nullified Nightbird, which had enabled the Autobots to capture her. In my mind, that was tantamount to treason. And then…

Then, he had laughed.

Starscream had laughed.

At me.

I felt myself grow increasingly agitated as the day's events replayed in my mind, as I lay on my recharge berth, waiting for sleep to claim me. Starscream had laughed. He had mocked me in front of my Decepticons and, much worse, in front of the Autobots. No one… no one , not even Starscream, could do that to me with impunity, without brutal retribution from me. Which was, I reflected, what Starscream must have wanted to begin with, because no one in his right mind would have done what he had done and not expected some sort of retribution from me. Even so, Starscream had flown away as fast as he could after nullifying Nightbird. Primus knows why, since he had to have known that there was nowhere he could have gone on this accursed planet where I couldn't have found him. And of course I had eventually caught him and brought him back to the base.

Several hours later, when I had entered his quarters, Starscream of course had begun to beg and plead with me, as if for some mysterious reason he thought he might be able to convince me that he had had no control over what he had just done. He always did that, and it only served to irk me all the more. I began to demand that he shut up, and when he refused to do so, I proceeded to beat him until he could do nothing but shut up. At one point, I remember repeatedly kicking him in the side so hard that the outer plating along his side had torn, creating a deep gash that had leaked quite a bit of energon. That was more damage than I usually inflicted upon him, but up to that point there had been nothing else different or particularly unusual about this particular confrontation between us. Starscream had been thoroughly flogged, beaten into submission, and he had been down at my feet apologizing repeatedly to me and whimpering pathetically, none of which was unusual when he had done something to force me to such extremes. We had also, over the years, developed the habit of bonding after these altercations, so that I could further reinstate my dominance over him, and we were both preparing to do so, when a thought had suddenly struck me.

That thought was that I was letting Starscream off too easy. I decided to do something about that… I had suddenly envisioned an entirely new dynamic to add to the bond between Starscream and me.

"You owe me a great deal, Starscream," I had whispered to him as I adjusted my fusion cannon to its finest setting.

Why I had never thought of the variation I'd imagined prior to that moment was a mystery to me, because it was so beautiful in its simplicity and so enticing in its potential that it seemed to me as if I should have thought of it millennia ago. But I didn't give the issue much thought beyond that. I just acted upon the impulse that had occurred to me. And so while we had been fully joined in the bond, I had activated my cannon and held it steadily over one of Starscream's wings. A very narrow, highly focused beam of pure energy had spat itself out of my weapon and gouged a razor-thin but quite deep laceration into Starscream's wing.

Starscream's entire body had jerked in my grasp and he had gasped and cried out in pain and fear, completely taken off-guard by what I had done to him. And at just that precise moment, through the bond between us, I had felt something…indescribable. It was as if I could feel Starscream's pain without it being painful to me, and it was…exciting. Even more than that, I had felt an intense wash of complete and utter control and power flowing over me as Starscream had cried out both aloud and through the bond, as he had begged me to stop what I was doing to him. It was, quite simply, exhilarating. The feeling of control, the non-painful pain, Starscream's begging…It was all intoxicating in a way that I'd never experienced before. I never wanted it to end. Starscream had been completely at my mercy, at my command. I realized that he was, in essence, a conduit for this powerful sensation and that, now that I knew the secret to experiencing it, I could experience it at any time, as often as I wanted. I had never been more delighted with a discovery as I had been at that moment.

So, after threatening Starscream that if he didn't hold still I'd cut into something worse than his wing, I cut him again. And again. In only a few minutes, I had created a dense group of closely spaced, perfectly straight lines on both of his wings. With each cut, I found that I felt more and more euphoric. I couldn't stop myself. In fact, I _didn't_ stop myself until Starscream no longer flinched or whimpered or responded in any way when I cut him, as if all of the pain and emotion that Starscream could possibly feel had already been wrung out of him. Which was just as well, given that dealing with constant exposure to the cascade of sensory input from Starscream had exhausted me to the point that I could barely lift my arm anymore. In fact, I had had to shut down for a short while next to Starscream in the aftermath of the cutting episode, just so that I would have enough energy to walk back to my quarters. And when I had awakened, I had been filled with a new sense of purpose, of determination, of complete control over every aspect of my existence. It was a euphoria like nothing I had ever known.

It had also, of course, been a draining experience. I knew that, in the future, it would be wise to be fully energized before engaging in such a bond with Starscream, for it had drained me almost literally of all that I was. But the rewards…Ah, the rewards were _well_ worth the draining of my energy reserves. Energy could be replaced; the sensations I'd just experienced, though, were irreplaceable. Inexpressible. Yes, I knew that a new era had just dawned between Starscream and me, and I knew, as I finally drifted off into the welcome depths of a healing recharge cycle, that those changes would be nothing but beneficial to both of us.


	7. Chapter 6

**_"Because I knew him once, a long time ago on Cybertron." _**  
_Starscream in "Fire in the Sky" _

Time seems to be a meaningless thing inside the Arctic Circle. There is, on the one hand, a frigid, endlessly unchanging quality about the place. Nothing intelligent lives here, so nothing is available, save for the capricious elements, to alter the landscape. Yet, the Arctic is also a place of truly bizarre extremes. When one is there in the depths of winter, the days are, instead, endless nights. One never sees the sun; all is unending, unchanging darkness, broken only by cold, forbidding stars and the occasional lurid splash of a colorful aurora here and there. Indeed, the Arctic winter is a dark and frigidly cold thing, something best avoided and forgotten. When one happens to be in the Arctic in high summer, however – as I was, currently – the story is quite different. Then, the days are _endless_ days. There are no nights. The sun never sets; its light simply mutates from dim to blindingly bright and then back to dim again over the course of a single day.

As such, time quickly ceases to be meaningful in both of the extreme seasons in the Arctic. Either one endures an endless, bitterly cold night or one enjoys a slightly milder endless day. There is very little in between. If one were to stay in the Arctic long enough, I could easily imagine that one would begin to measure time in entire seasons rather than in days and weeks, much less in mere hours.

So it was that I had no idea how long I'd been perched on the desolate, forbidding, wind-whipped little outcropping of blue-white ice upon which I was sitting. I was somewhere in the middle of the Arctic Circle, huddled in my chosen spot with my knees drawn up to my chin. It might have been mere hours that I'd been sitting there. It might have been entire weeks or years. I really had no idea. All that I was aware of was the constant, bitingly cold wind blowing in from the distant, surrounding ocean and the pallid sunshine streaming down through tiny breaks in a sky that was, for the most part, full of depressingly-grey clouds. And, of course, there was the flat, glaring expanse of blue-whiteness that was the icepack. It stretched out around me in all directions, all the way to the horizon on all sides; I could almost believe that it was endless. Almost entirely devoid of life, the Arctic landscape was stark and blinding in its simple, primal purity.

It was pure. I was…not. I hadn't been for a very long time, indeed…But, out of long habit, I pushed that thought aside almost as quickly as it had managed to surface, determinedly returning my attention to the wandering musings that I had been contemplating before those niggling thoughts had intruded upon my musings.

I didn't know precisely what it was that had drawn me to the Arctic, specifically to the very spot upon which I was sitting. Perhaps it was the memories that haunted the place. It was as if they had been frozen within the ice beneath me, as if the feeble heat from the sun was slowly melting away the ice and releasing the memories entrapped within it. They wafted about the area like a lingering, long-forgotten perfume: familiar, comforting, yet at the same time vastly conflicted and utterly confusing.

It was very near to my current position that Skyfire had crashed, by my own hand, a single Earth year ago. He had been buried under tons of Arctic ice afterward, and it had been the Autobots who were now his friends that had subsequently freed him from that imprisonment. Looking out across the ice from my current vantage point, I could see the deep, jagged-edged pit that they'd heedlessly left behind after they had rescued Skyfire. It was a testament – a monument, even – to my own self-absorption, my own lack of trust and understanding. For long and self-recriminating minutes, I stared across the ice at that pit, and I fancied that I had been drawn to the Arctic simply so that I could gaze upon my own dubious handiwork…but I knew that really wasn't the reason that I was there at all.

No, I knew that I had been drawn to the very spot upon which I sat because, about fifty meters precisely beneath where I was sitting, Skyfire had laid dormant for millions of years, entombed within the Arctic ice. The damage he'd sustained in the crash had left him deactivated, and everyone who had known him had thought him dead…except for me, of course. I had known that Skyfire wasn't dead at all…but that knowledge hadn't at all lessened my despair shortly after I'd lost him. Indeed, it had only made me feel worse. Guiltier. Leaving Skyfire behind had he been dead would have been forgivable; leaving him behind when I'd known beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was still alive – and, worse, never returning for him – was nothing less than reprehensible. And the mountain of guilt associated with that reprehensible act had most assuredly been my downfall. It had been guilt and a bewildering yet deep-seated craving for punishment for my part in Skyfire's loss that had slowly drawn me to Megatron, like a moth to a flame, all those years ago…

When I left Skyfire, I had done so all the while assuring myself that I was returning to Cybertron merely to get help. So that I could come back for him and search the planet where he'd crashed more thoroughly. So that I could rescue him. So that I could return to him. But it had been a long flight back to Cybertron, and it had been a journey that I had barely survived, for various reasons. And when I had finally arrived…Cybertron was a very different place than it had been when I'd left it, beginning to be consumed by what became known as the Great War. Sending rescue parties out to retrieve lost explorers when there was a war to be fought and glory to be gained was not very high on anyone's priority list, no matter how often and how passionately I had pleaded my case.

So, unable to rescue Skyfire by myself and becoming tired of beating myself up both for that and for the choice to leave him in the first place, I had slowly managed to forge within myself a quantum shift in direction and purpose and attitude. I had determined that rather than wallowing in guilt over a situation that I had not the power to change, I would make a completely new life for myself, so that no one – me included – would remember my previous one and the grievous mistakes that I had made. Especially that one horribly wrong decision I had made. I had resolved to put aside my old life and embrace something boldly new and different. I rewrote my past history – which had been laughably easy to do – and applied to the War Academy.

For the most part, I had succeeded in erasing my old life and starting a new one…but not quite entirely so. I had been accepted into the War Academy, and I had excelled there, almost instantaneously absorbing every fact and piece of knowledge put in front of me…but the guilt was still there, too, no matter how much I tried to put it aside. It was sublimated, buried deep down in my psyche, but it was still very much there…and it often surfaced to taunt me, usually at the very worst possible time.

And I had discovered over the next several years, while becoming ever more deeply involved with the Decepticons – and with Megatron – that I felt strangely better about the entire episode when I was enduring some type of punishment, even though I was always being punished for something completely unrelated to what had happened with Skyfire. I felt so much better that, strangely enough, I had begun to _crave_ punishment, so much so that I would often find myself doing things that would _invite_ such punishment. I had lost myself for more years than I wanted to count in the cycle of guilt and punishment in which I still found myself deeply mired. I had thought that my situation would never change…and on some strange, twisted level, I actually hadn't _wanted_ it to change. I wanted, instead, to continue to suffer the consequences of my actions because I had thought that that was the only way to expiate my myriad sins.

But then, against all odds and after millions of years, I had found Skyfire again, and he had been reactivated. My guilt over having abandoned him instantly evaporated – for a little while, at least – once I could talk to him and simply _be_ with him again, once I knew that he was free of the eons-long imprisonment, the length of which had been entirely my fault. And I had at first thought, without giving much consideration to all that had happened to me in the intervening years between Skyfire's loss and his rediscovery, that he and I could pick up just where we had left off when I had lost him. Never once did it cross my mind that I wasn't _quite_ the same person that I had been on the day of Skyfire's loss.

Of course, Skyfire hadn't understood all of that at all. Skyfire hadn't _changed_ at all. He had had no conception of the vast expanse of time that had elapsed between his crash and his reactivation. For him, at least at first, his crash had only just happened. And of course he had had no idea what had happened to me during that long stretch of time. He had had no idea that I was a different being than the one that he had known, so he simply couldn't comprehend the person that I had become in his absence. And of course my reaction to his lack of understanding had been anger and a deep – although, in hindsight, misplaced – sense of betrayal. And since that perceived betrayal had come from the one person in the universe who knew the _real_ me, it had hurt more than anything that Megatron had ever done to me.

And I had reacted badly to it all, of course. Suddenly, it had seemed to me as if I was no longer good enough for Skyfire as I was, and that was a feeling that, although familiar, I didn't like at all. And so I had lashed out at the one person in the universe who I knew, deep down, didn't want to hurt me. But this, sad to say, was what I had learned from Megatron. It had been drilled into my head – almost literally, in fact – that I should view everything through a malevolent veil of hate and anger and deep suspicion, that I should lash out at and try to destroy anyone who didn't automatically see things _my_ way. Oh, yes, that was Megatron's influence, indeed, and it was perhaps the cruelest injustice of them all…

Without thinking about it, I sighed regretfully, deeply, and in response a knife-sharp stab of pain lanced through my severely damaged flank. It was a painful reminder of what had driven me – once again – from Decepticon Headquarters. _He_ knew that I'd be back, of course...Worse than that, _I_ knew that I'd be back because even though I knew, on some unconscious level, that it was crazy to return, I still felt that pull, that _need_, to do so. So, even after Megatron had…disfigured me in a way that he'd never attempted before, I knew that I would return to him, and I knew that I would return soon. No one, I knew, would understand why I would do so. Not even me, really. But I knew that I'd swallow what little pride I had left and return. I would go to the med bay for repairs, and then I'd be back at Megatron's side again as if nothing at all had happened.

Because, really, what _had_ happened? Everything that had happened, I had brought upon myself. I deserved the punishment I received. In this case, I had caused Megatron to lose Nightbird, whom he had valued for some reason that I couldn't at all comprehend. But of course that wasn't all that I had done over the years. Megatron's punishments were reminders to me that I deserved all that I was receiving, indeed. Besides, I knew that I belonged with him. If nothing else, I knew that no one else would have me…

…Except, perhaps, for Skyfire…

I had thought that I'd lost him. I hadn't been thorough enough in my search for him after his crash. I hadn't conserved my energy well enough so that I could comprehensively search the entire planet for him. I'd only been able to search half of it before I'd had to leave and limp the long journey home or otherwise crash myself, which would have done neither Skyfire nor I any good at all. And once I returned to Cybertron, I had gotten caught up in the war…and of course I'd fallen under Megatron's spell. And once _that_ had happened, I had all but forgotten about Skyfire. There were rare times, even, that I forgot that he wasn't dead and that we still shared a bond. But usually, I did remember ; I just resigned myself to the fact that I'd lost him, that I would never see him again, and that my own actions had been what had sealed forever the fact that I had lost him…

…Except that ultimately I _hadn't_ lost Skyfire, had I? He was back. He was alive and well somewhere on the face of this Primus-forsaken planet on which I was trapped. And, during this latest "episode" with Megatron, taking my punishment for bringing about the loss of his precious energy chip and for Nightbird's capture and imprisonment by the Autobots and her human creator, _all_ that I had been able to think about was that Skyfire would _never_ have done to me what Megatron had been doing to me…

Those were exceedingly dangerous thoughts, of course. Thinking of Skyfire and me and what we had once had while…attached…to Megatron wasn't exactly safe for Skyfire _or_ for me. Or maybe it _was_ safe for Skyfire, at least…Because, of course, I had driven Skyfire away. He was now safely out of Megatron's grasp, and I couldn't imagine him not remaining that way. He was an Autobot now, and he seemed quite happy to be one, from the little I'd seen of him since he'd made his decision as to his allegiance. And I was sure that he hated me now. No doubt, the other Autobots, all held in Optimus Prime's thrall, had already poisoned his mind against me, told him of all the things I'd done while he had slept on Earth, unaware and at peace…

Indeed, I knew that Skyfire could never love someone like the person that I was now, not after all I'd done. I knew that he would _never_ be mine again. I knew it all with a sudden, dreadful, sickening certainty, as I replayed over and over in my mind all of the things that had happened between Skyfire and me after he'd been revived. As I sat there, I realized fully, for the first time, that by repudiating Skyfire at that time, I had well and truly slammed closed another door, burned another bridge, and blocked another escape route. I had irrevocably severed another lifeline that someone had generously and selflessly offered to me. _I_ had done that. Me. No one else. And I had done it quite deliberately, too. I still couldn't figure out why…

Ultimately, I supposed that was why I had found myself heading here once I had yet again slipped out of Headquarters after having recovered well enough to fly from Megatron's latest round of "affections." Here, I could relive my mistakes over and over again. Here, I could punish myself just as surely as Megatron had punished me. Here, I knew that I could do worse damage to myself than Megatron could even dream of doing to me. And this, I realized was what I wanted. Yes, I knew that I was only making myself feel worse. Yes, I knew that I was plummeting down a steep spiral of self-recrimination with nothing below me to break my fall. Still…I somehow felt as though I belonged there, on that cold outcropping of ice, as if being there somehow allowed me to be close to Skyfire…although, at the same time I told myself that wanting to be close to him wasn't a healthy desire for a large number of reasons.

So above all, I was…confused. Torn, definitely. In fact, I often felt as if I had a split personality and that the two "sides" of me were constantly pulling at me, fighting for dominance, yanking back and forth in some sort of bizarre tug of war. There was a half of me that was, for lack of a better term, the "real me." It was the person that I had been millions of years ago, the person that, deep down, I still _wanted_ to be, that I fervently wished that I _could_ be. But that side of me was the weaker one, one that only surfaced at odd times, when I was deliberately being introspective, as I was now. The other side, though, was so very much stronger, if only because it was the persona that I always presented to the world and, as such, was the person that I had been for so very long that I often forgot that I had ever been any different than I was at present. On occasion, the two halves of me would mesh, live harmoniously in peace, and it was only at those times that I felt truly stable, truly sane. But those occasions were exceedingly rare; far, _far_ more often the two halves of me would either be in direct conflict with each other or one half would simply completely dominate the other. And usually, it was the stronger half that dominated, and without fail it was _always_ the side that I showed to the world. Because as much as I might secretly _like_ to be the person that I had been all those years ago, I knew now that that side of me was weak, vulnerable, easily manipulated, and that it was therefore dangerous. It had to be kept to myself because I had vowed that never again would I be so weak and so vulnerable as I had been right after I had lost Skyfire. Never again would I allow emotional attachments to destroy the position that I now held or threaten the fragile semblance of sanity that I had, with great effort, managed to forge from the tattered remnants of my life after I'd lost Skyfire.

And, as if having that sort of "split personality" wasn't confusing enough, there was also the additional complication of Skyfire's reappearance in my life. So in addition to being faced with an entirely inward conflict between who I had once been and who I had been forced to become in order to survive, there was also an outward conflict, one that made me feel as though, at once, I belonged to two people, one real and immediate and demanding and the other a pleasant, though ultimately phantom, memory.

I had no idea what to do about any of it. It was far too much conflict, far too much turmoil, for me to handle all at once.

So, all that was left for me to do was to sit and think…And to remember, even though the memories that my mind seemed to want to contemplate were less-than-pleasant ones. So I sighed, sank into the memories, and simply let my mind wander…


	8. Chapter 7

**_"Why are you so frightened? I will not harm you..." _**  
_Skyfire in "Fire in the Sky" _

Starscream didn't seem to notice my approach, which was exactly what I had hoped for as I'd warily approached his position. I was not certain, after all, what his reaction to my presence would be. None of our few encounters since I had left the Decepticons – left _him – _had been exactly cordial, and this encounter that I was about to force would perhaps not be an exception to that general rule. I was also not certain if I blamed Starscream for his particular hostility toward me or not. On the one hand, I could understand his behavior, but on the other hand? The Starscream that I knew…that I _had_ known…that I had loved and that I knew that I still loved…He would have understood all that had happened when I had been reactivated. He would have supported me. He would not have asked what he had asked of me.

Of course, the Starscream that I knew also would never have been involved with an organization like the Decepticons to begin with. Of that, I was certain. And yet, there he was, and he was involved very deeply with the Decepticons, as well. He was, in fact, their second-in-command and I knew – because he had told me – that he had designs on moving even higher than that. That, too, was not like Starscream. Not like _my_ Starscream, at any rate. Power and influence were of no interest to him. Or at least they hadn't been of interest to him…before…

But it had become clearly, painfully obvious to me, through various avenues, that the Starscream that I knew and the Starscream that the Autobots knew were not at all the same person. If nothing else, Jazz's perplexed reactions to what I had told him about our past history together had made that eminently obvious to me. So now I had to find out _why_ that was so. More than ever, I needed to know why and how it had happened. I needed to understand the forces that had molded Starscream into the person that he had become over the years of my long absence. It was a need, a desperate need, that burned through every part of me, refusing to be denied.

People, I knew, could change. Certainly, they could change drastically in the length of time that I had been inactive, trapped within a block of Arctic ice like a fly in amber, literally frozen in time. I knew that. But Starscream, I believed, had changed _too_ much, even when I factored in the length of time that I had been away from him, for the changes in him to be a natural outcome of the millions of years of time that we had been apart. His fundamental personality seemed to have shifted, and I didn't understand how or why that could have happened. All I knew was that it was as if another person – a cold, bitter, violent, and completely ruthless stranger – now inhabited Starscream's familiar body, and that was something that pained me more deeply than I would have ever thought possible.

Yet, I knew on a deeper and much more intimate level that such was not really the case, or at least that it was not completely the case. For in the brief stretch of time that we had been together after my reactivation and before I had ultimately left the Decepticons, I had sensed brief but enticingly bright flashes of my Starscream here and there, lurking – hidingperhaps – deep within the current Starscream. They'd come out quite clearly in those few moments when we'd been alone, before the Autobots had arrived…and yet those fragments of my Starscream became completely submerged when we were not alone. That, in itself, was not surprising. Starscream had always been fiery, a person ruled by quicksilver, chameleonic moods. He would sometimes careen through emotions and moods so rapidly that it exhausted me although it never seemed to have such an effect on him. That tendency had sometimes been annoying to me, even though it was also one of the many things that had drawn me to Starscream in the first place; that sort of unpredictable fire and passion was a quality that I generally lacked. But now, that moody tendency of Starscream's was grossly exaggerated, and I needed to know why. In fact, I needed to know why about almost everything concerning Starscream now.

And so here I was, having cut off ties with the Autobots. That separation was perhaps permanent, although, thanks to Jazz, I would also be welcomed back into their ranks, if I ever wanted to be. I was grateful to him for that. In fact, I would be forever indebted to him, even if I never saw him again. Never had I known a kinder or more understanding and empathetic individual than that Autobot…except perhaps for Starscream.

_My_ Starscream, that is.

And I needed to find _my_ Starscream again. It was imperative, an overwhelming and, indeed, almost instinctive need to find the person who held a part of me because I held a part of him as well, and those long-separated parts wanted, _needed, _to be together again. That was my sole purpose in life now. All that I had left in my life now was to find Starscream and, more importantly than that, to reach him.

And, of course, one of the fringe benefits of a bond, however old and however weakened by time and distance, was that it could never be completely broken. Even when one bond partner died, the surviving partner was left with a piece of their mate within themselves. That severed piece could and usually did cause immense pain, yes, especially so at first. But it could also be quite comforting, eventually, in its immortal endurance. And so, the bond between Starscream and I had never been broken. It had faded to a great degree because of the vast expanse of time and distance that had separated the two of us for millions of years, but it was still there. _He_ was still there, flickering like a dim beacon in the deeper recesses of my spark.

And so, when I really concentrated, I could still sense Starscream on occasion. Every once in a while, I could still catch a fleeting but quite clear glimpse of him and of what he was thinking and feeling and doing at the particular moment that I had "caught" him. I could sense these things even though Starscream had apparently constructed more than a few barriers around the part of him that was mine. That part was still there, though, and it always would be, no matter how diligently Starscream attempted to barricade and ignore it. And, like a compass, the bond could point me in his direction, too, something of which I took immediate advantage. So, upon saying my farewells to Prowl and Jazz, who had at least understood if not condoned my reasons for leaving the Autobots and who had come to wish me well and to see me off, I had transformed, taken to the sky, and…followed my heart, as the humans would say.

And it had inevitably led me here, back to the Arctic Circle, to the forbidding, dismal place where it had all begun more than an Earth year before. I had transformed and landed to feel the uncomfortably familiar sensation of slick, frigid ice beneath my feet. And there was a constant chill wind, as well. It pushed at me and howled like the wailing of a lost, wandering spirit and, even though it was ostensibly summer now in the Arctic, it made me shiver to my very core. Not only was it cold, after all, but I'd had quite enough of this place. Bad memories haunted it, malevolently wreathing the landscape and whispering in my mind, preying on my thoughts. Nothing good had ever happened to me in this place, and I had never particularly wanted to see it again.

But Starscream was here, I knew, and he was quite close by. I could feel him. He had been drawn here for whatever reason, too, and I in turn had been drawn to him. He was alone here somewhere, and I realized that there would perhaps never be a better opportunity to speak with him. So I hurried over the frozen, treacherously slick and uneven terrain toward him, as I had no idea how long he would remain alone.

It didn't take me long to find him, again following the inner "compass" provided by the ancient bond that still simmered fitfully between us, now stronger, now weaker. Still, I was cautious. I did not wish to approach him too quickly. I did not wish to startle him and therefore prompt him to react badly to my presence. Besides, for a few long moments, I was content to hide my considerable bulk behind a large blue-white outcropping of ice not far from him, huddling behind it out of the wind, and simply watch he who had been, and still was, my bondmate.

Had I not known exactly who and what he was, I might have mistaken Starscream for a large statue inexplicably dropped into the middle of the Arctic Circle. He was that quiet, that still, as he sat perched on the lip of a wind-whipped outcropping of ice, huddled there almost pathetically. His shoulders were hunched forward, his bent knees were drawn up tightly to his chest, and one arm was wrapped around them. The other arm he held tightly against his side for some reason. An air of gloom, of depression, of terrible, unrelenting misery hung about him like a dark and heavy shroud. Something, I realized, was very wrong, indeed.

With old, protective instincts rampaging loudly through every corner of my mind, I stepped out and away from the outcropping that had been concealing me. I made no attempt at all to be sneaky while doing so, yet still Starscream didn't seem to notice me. He appeared to be thoroughly distracted, completely absorbed in whatever it was that he was thinking about.

I took several steps toward Starscream, going so far as to be deliberately noisy about it, but it was only when my shadow fell across his line of sight that he actually looked up at me, and a surprised and deeply alarmed expression flitted across his face when he did so. But then, almost instantly his surprise was gone, and he was on his feet. Nearly as quickly, he leaped gracefully down from the outcropping and, upon landing, unerringly leveled both of his arm-mounted laser rifles at me, and then he fired them.

"Starscream…please…" I called out to him after a few minutes spent awkwardly dodging his frenetic laser blasts. They splattered constantly all around me, twin pink streams of destruction, instantly sublimating large chunks of ice to wispy, curling tendrils of water vapor that immediately dissipated in the wind. For some reason, however, my very real peril didn't seem to register with me. I didn't even think to retaliate, either. My own weapon remained safely stowed away as I dodged Starscream's frantic attack. A much higher concern was uppermost in my mind as I called out to him again. "We need to _talk_, Starscream, not fight. Please! Please stop this!"

Starscream lowered his arms slightly, thin, wispy tendrils of grey smoke trailing from the barrel of each of his laser rifles. An uncertain, indecisive expression flitted across his face for the briefest of instants, but then quickly melted into a narrow-eyed scowl. But as I watched him, I saw that a tremor occasionally shuddered its way through his entire body, that he would occasionally sway slightly, unsteadily. It was as if he had been weakened by something, as if it was all he could do to remain standing upright.

"There is _nothing_ left to say," Starscream was scathingly asserting meanwhile, his voice carrying clearly enough to me on the wind and sounding, indeed, quite strong and firm, belying the clear impression to the contrary that his body language was communicating to me. "You've made your position quite clear, _Autobot_."

He made a move to raise his arms again, to begin another volley of destruction, but I spoke again before he could do so. And something, apparently, was compelling him to listen to me, for which I was thankful.

"Have I, Starscream?" I countered calmly, raising my voice only enough to be heard above the wind. Watching Starscream warily, I gestured slowly, so as not to startle him, at the once-again-empty space in the center of my chest where a Decepticon symbol and then an Autobot symbol had once been emblazoned. And then I continued speaking, using the sort of quiet, coaxing tone of voice that one would use to soothe a frightened, cornered animal. "Have I, indeed? If that is what you think, then your powers of observation have drastically weakened over the years," I said. "I have left the Autobots. I…I _cannot_ be your enemy, Starscream. You _know_ that."

At that, Starscream hesitated again, still frowning but this time in thought, perhaps, rather than in anger. His brow furrowed as he hesitantly lowered his lasers again and stared at me, his scarlet eyes narrowed suspiciously as my words trailed off. No doubt, he was trying to ascertain whether or not this was some sort of trick on my part, a ploy that I was using in order to get close to him and harm him…or worse. And, true, I _was_ trying to get close to him, indeed. But of course I had no ulterior motives for doing so other than a deep, driving need to understand the person that he had become in my absence. I took advantage of Starscream's indecisive hesitation by taking a few more careful, slow, measured steps toward him. In response, he took a couple of quick, nervous steps backward. He took fewer and smaller steps backward than I took forward, however, and his lasers stayed down. It was…encouraging, I thought.

I continued to pace toward him, slowly closing the distance between us, even though he was still steadily moving backwards. Eventually, though, Starscream backed himself into the leeward side of the outcropping upon which he had been sitting when I'd arrived. Panic skipped briefly across his face as Starscream realized that he had cornered himself, and I stopped in my tracks. I did not want him to feel trapped, which would likely compel him to do something rash. I just stood there non-threateningly, clenching and unclenching my fists uncertainly, not quite sure of what to do next. For a moment, I was content to watch Starscream, watch his limbs twitching, trembling slightly for some reason, watch occasional shudders wrack him so completely that even his wingtips trembled. I frowned with concern, but said nothing of it to him. I wanted to give him time to calm down, to gather his wits, to become comfortable with my presence rather than to feel threatened by it. I wanted to convince him that I meant him no harm.

And eventually, after long moments of staring at each other like that, Starscream slowly sank down, his back still against the wall of ice behind him, until he was huddled against it almost pathetically, sitting on the frozen ground, his knees once again drawn up protectively to his chest. Slowly, carefully, I sat down as well, a safe few of my arm lengths away from him, and just watched him, trying to discern…something…about him. That initial vague sense that I had gleaned, that something was wrong with him, intensified by leaps and bounds now that I was close to him.

"What do you want from me, Skyfire?" Starscream eventually asked in a tired, almost detached voice after a long moment of silence had hung ominously and oppressively between us. He was staring blankly off into the distance, not looking at me at all. "Haven't you done enough already?"

The forlorn, listless quality of his voice alarmed me. And the fact that he was speaking in such a tone – a rare one both for the Starscream that I knew and, I imagined, for this Starscream – was telling…

"I just want to know…_why_?" I said softly after a moment, my voice almost drowned out by the wind as it blew over the crest of the outcropping above our heads.

Starscream turned his head to look at me then, his red eyes glowing as if they were two heated coals set into his dark face, while a flicker of confusion danced across his face.

"Why what?" he asked, and his perplexed tone of voice revealed that he genuinely had no idea what I was talking about, something that I found difficult to believe.

I took a few moments to calm myself, to gather my thoughts. It seemed somewhat unreal to me that after all that had happened between us since my reactivation, I was sitting here with Starscream, that we were having a civil conversation, that he was listening to me without protest. Now, I realized, was my chance. I also realized that it might be the only chance I was ever going to get.

"You've changed, Starscream," I pointed out quietly, reasonably. "I wish to…I _have_ to know why."

At that, Starscream shrugged nonchalantly, turning his head to stare again across the landscape.

"It's been a long time, Skyfire," he answered quietly, after a moment. "Much can happen in a long stretch of years, you know." He turned his gaze on me again, his head tilted inquisitively to one side, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and asked, "You…still have no real conception of how much time has gone by, do you?"

"Of course I do," I said, suddenly somewhat defensive. "Ten million years."

One corner of Starscream's mouth quirked into a fraction of a wry smile at that.

"Oh, sure. You can rattle off the number easily enough, I suppose," he asserted. "But does the number have any real _meaning_ for you?" I opened my mouth to answer, but he continued to speak over me before I could say anything. "No, of course it doesn't. You were in stasis all that time. A hundred million years could have passed – a _billion_ years, even – and you wouldn't have noticed. It would all have been the same to you. But not to me. Not to me. Because I had to go on _living _those years, Skyfire, and I had to live them without you, in a world that eventually devolved into this war. You have no conception of what that was like for me. _No one_ does. No one _can_."

There was much pain in his voice as he spoke, as the words poured out of him like energon from a gaping wound that refused to heal. His voice trembled with it. It was pain born of, I think, an ineffable sadness and more than a little anger. In response, I winced and said the only thing that immediately occurred to me.

"I'm…sorry, Starscream."

He looked at me again at that, his eyes narrowed, the expression on his face both thoughtful and slightly angered. I'm sure he thought that my words were inadequate; I _knew_ they were.

"You should be sorry, Skyfire," he finally said after a long moment spent staring at me appraisingly. His voice was quiet, almost listless, again. "You should be very sorry."

A long moment of silence stretched between us, broken only by the sound of the wind that whipped over the top of the outcropping above our heads. During that time, I watched Starscream expectantly as he seemed suddenly to collapse into a deeper despair, his body huddled against I knew not what. I had to fight the urge to reach out to him, to touch him, to gather him into my arms and make everything better. I knew I couldn't do any of that, though. All that I could was talk to him. The words that came to me, though, were quite inadequate.

"But Starscream…I'm here now. You're here…and we—" I started to say, but Starscream interrupted me with a vehement shake of his head.

"Yes," he said tersely, suddenly squaring his shoulders and leveling a profound glare at me, his mouth set in a deep frown. "You are here. So am I. But what you're about to ask is…quite impossible."

"Why?"

"It just _is_."

"Is it the war, or the—?"

Starscream barked out a humorless, almost hysterical laugh at that.

"Hah! I wish it was that easy," he said ruefully. "But it isn't," he added with a sigh, an almost…regretful?…one.

I found that his answer just…wasn't enough, though. I wanted a _clear_ answer, one that would set my mind, which had been in a chaotic uproar over him since my reactivation, at ease. But he was not being very cooperative with me. He was being deliberately closed-mouthed, in fact, and that was not at all like the Starscream that I knew. And then I suddenly, inexplicably, lost my patience.

"Why _isn't_ it that easy?" I loudly demanded to know, in a tone of voice that actually made Starscream jump. "Damn it, Starscream, I've missed you! Since I left the Decepticons, I've done nothing but _think_ about you. And I honestly don't see what the problem is! So just stop being so vague – because it really isn't like you, you know – and just _tell_ me, for Primus's sake! _Tell me what's wrong_!"

Starscream looked at me askance then, wide-eyed, in shock. No doubt he was surprised, to say the least by my outburst. I was not usually given to such extremes of emotion – That was usually Starscream's own tendency, not mine – but I had reached the very limits of even my patience. In frustration, I raised a tightly clenched fist to smack the side of it against the wall of ice next to me.

And in reaction to that frustrated motion of mine, Starscream _flinched,_ ducking his head reflexively and raising his arms slightly. And he didn't flinch because of the raised tone of my voice or because of the obvious and confused anger in it. He had reacted merely to the fact that I had raised my hand, and he obviously thought that I was raising it to him…that I was going to hit him. It was suddenly as if Starscream was a dog that had been hit one too many times by its master, that would subsequently cower whenever anyone so much as raised a hand to it. It was an instinctive, unconscious reaction, I could tell, one that had obviously become a deeply ingrained habit. And with that instinctive reaction, as he raised his arms defensively, Starscream's arm moved away from his side.

And now that I was close to him, I could see the reason why Starscream had been so protective of his side, why he had been holding his left arm tightly against it…and why he had been concealing it.

There was a long, terrible, deep gash that ran the length of Starscream's left side, from just underneath his arm almost to his hip. The edges of the wound were jagged and dented inward, as if the repeated, savage impact of a blunt object had caused it. His underlying circuitry was exposed, sparking faintly and ominously blue on occasion, and the gash was oozing energon at what I considered to be a fairly worrisome rate. The injury must have been extraordinarily painful, yet Starscream seemed not to notice it. It was as if…

…It was as if he was accustomed to sporting that sort of damage and had become inured to the pain of it. In fact, he seemed to be far more concerned about the possibility of me hitting him than he was worried about that ugly wound in his side.

"You…you are injured, Starscream," I said softly, stupidly, my exasperation with him instantly forgotten as I surveyed the injury. I lowered the hand that I'd raised in frustration, unclenching my fist in order to point at the gaping wound in his side.

Starscream, apparently slowly realizing that I was not going to hit him, just blinked dully at me as he emerged from his animalistic, instinctive reaction to my gesture and slowly straightened out of the defensive posture that he had assumed when I had raised my arm. He glanced down at his side, frowning and narrowing his eyes contemplatively at the injury, as if he hadn't noticed it before.

"It's nothing," Starscream insisted calmly after a long moment, not looking at me as he spoke. It seemed to me as if he was trying to convince _himself_ that it was nothing more than he was trying to convince me of that fact.

But it was not "nothing," of course. In fact, as I minutely studied Starscream's body – as I _really_ looked at him – I realized that the gash in his side was not by any means his only injury. It was by far the worst one, at the moment, yes…but it was certainly not the only one. There were ragged scratches all over him…small puncture wounds…evidence of carbon-scoring, as if he'd been in a battle. Some of the injuries were older, I noticed, and quite faint, but I was looking at Starscream closely enough, intensely enough, to notice them easily. _Anyone_ who cared to look closely enough would notice them, in fact.

I just wondered now if anyone _did_ care to look.

A glimmer of a suspicion and a faint, creeping, terrible knowledge began to gnaw at my innards at that very moment, as I stared at Starscream. A small part of me suddenly knew, on some deeply subconscious level, exactly what was going on with Starscream, knew without doubt the answer to my earlier question of why he had changed so much. Most of me, however, didn't want to acknowledge that answer. It was too awful to contemplate, so awful that my brain was steadfastly refusing to entertain the notion. So I just continued to stare dumbly at Starscream, while all sorts of disorganized emotions whirled like a tornado through my head, leaving confusion and devastation in its wake.

Starscream did not appreciate my scrutiny.

"Stop it!" he hissed venomously when he could bear my stare no longer. "Just…Stop staring at me!"

And, with that, Starscream pushed himself unsteadily to his feet while I continued to stare at him, so completely stunned at the realization that was forming in my mind that I did not – _could _not – move. He swayed slightly, laid a hand against the outcropping for a moment to steady himself, and then he turned to leave, although where he thought he was going in this Primus-forsaken frozen wasteland, I had no idea. And when he turned to walk away from me, I saw still more damage. Deep, very fresh, and perfectly, obsessively parallel laser gashes ran the vertical length of the backs of his wings, at least a dozen of them on each wing. Some were deeper than others, all were edged with black carbon-scoring, and _all _of them had been inflicted by someone other than Starscream himself. Starscream, after all, couldn't very well laser his own back with that kind of sick precision.

Without thinking, acting purely on instinct, I reached out to Starscream as he turned from me, before he could walk or fly away, and grabbed his forearm in an iron grip. He stiffened angrily in response, spun back to face me, tried to yank his arm out of my grasp, but even if he had not already been injured and therefore weakened, I was still the stronger of the two of us. And I was determined to get some answers from him, which only made my grip on him stronger. Once he realized that he was not getting away, Starscream stopped struggling. He stood still, glaring at me, and I could feel the tremors that were wracking his body as he raised his gaze to meet mine, though whether they were tremors produced by anger or tremors that were the result of physical weakness or both, I did not know. His face, however, revealed only anger; he was scowling ferociously at me. As the humans had a habit of saying, if looks could kill, I would certainly have been dead at that moment.

"Let…me…_go_," Starscream growled around a clenched jaw, his voice low and threatening, and he drew out the words in order to express his extreme displeasure.

I ignored, for a moment, his outrage, consumed as I was by an all-too-familiar need to know. It demanded that I get the answers from Starscream that I wanted.

"Who did this to you?" I asked, my voice also low, both with concern for Starscream and with fury at whomever it was that had inflicted this damage upon him. "This is not battle damage, Starscream. This…This was…deliberate. Why…? Who…?"

Starscream's level gaze held mine for a long moment as my voice trailed off and as he no doubt debated what to say to me.

What Starscream eventually chose to say to me, however, completely shocked me.

"_You_ did it, Skyfire," Starscream hissed, quietly but with extreme malice. "It's _your_ fault."

I blinked, taken aback, for a moment so surprised that I didn't know what to say or what to think. In my confusion, my grasp on Starscream's arm loosened and he easily broke free of me and took several quick steps away from me, so that he was safely out of arm's reach.

"You'll never understand, Skyfire," he said to me almost sadly as he watched me grapple with what he'd just said. He shook his head at me as my mind reeled, as I struggled to make a logical connection between me and Starscream's situation. "_No one_ will ever understand," he continued. "So just…leave me alone. I don't want your help. Or your pity. Or _anything_. I want _nothing_ from you or from anyone else, do you understand me? Leave me alone. "

And with that, he turned from me and began to walk away from me, heading out across the barren expanse of wind-whipped, blue-white ice.

He did not, however, get very far.

His first few steps were confident, defiant, but soon his pace began to falter. And then he began to stagger, to collapse.

Fatefully, I was there to catch him, going down onto my knees and skidding across the ice, managing to grab him and pull him back against me before he could tumble face first to the ice. Gently, I gathered Starscream's body to mine, and although he struggled weakly in my arms, he had not the strength, at the moment, to resist me. And then, the little strength he had left gave out entirely, and he collapsed helplessly against me, his back against my chest, his entire body shaking. I just held him, murmuring mindless, gentle, comforting words to him and savoring the fact that I was holding him once again after so very long.

And in his weakened, unguarded condition, now that we were in physical contact, the bond that had once existed between Starscream and me, that had once been so strong, that had once the very center of my universe, responded to the fact that Starscream was once again in my arms, although it was under less-than-ideal circumstances, of course.

And then the blinding brilliance of the sunlit arctic landscape abruptly disappeared, fading suddenly to black as the long-dormant bond between Starscream and I flared to life and I was plunged helplessly into whatever it was that was floating within Starscream's muddled, half-conscious thoughts at the moment. Disoriented, I slowly became aware of the fact that I…he…_we_ were in a room, a strange dark room where I had never been. Although it was dark and I couldn't see the walls, I had the sense that it was a small place. The air was stale, as if it never circulated properly, and the atmosphere was oppressive, claustrophobic, and ominously silent. I shuddered unconsciously as I turned in a circle, trying to get a better sense of where I was. There was some sort of sticky substance on the floor, but I couldn't tell what it was, nor did I stop to analyze it, busy as I was with attempting to ascertain my location.

"Where am I?" I choked out, only my voice was, oddly enough, Starscream's. And it was wavering slightly with fear and a deep sense of foreboding. This was an experience that was terrifying for Starscream, though as yet it was merely puzzling to me. But somewhere, from some detached part of me that wasn't involved with this abrupt but tenuous bond between Starscream and I, I felt fear rise within me as well, feeding like a psychic vampire off of Starscream's. He recognized where he was. He knew what was going to happen…and it terrified him. "Where—?"

"You are alone," a voice suddenly answered.

It was not a voice that I immediately recognized. It was whispered, thready, and distorted, like something one would hear coming over a bad comm connection that spanned millions of light years. Yet at the same time, the voice was right there with me, next to me, speaking softly, urgently to me. I could almost feel the speaker's breath caress my cheek as he said the words. I gasped and jerked my head around, expecting to see someone there, standing right next to me, centimeters from me, but no one was there. All that accompanied me in the room, it seemed, was the sticky substance on the floor, the level of which, I just now realized, was rising and not at an entirely leisurely pace. It had covered my feet in just the few moments that had passed since this…experience…had begun. I tried to extricate one foot from it and failed. It held me fast, as if it was an insistent lover that was determined to embrace me.

A niggling germ of panic began to eat away at something inside of me then. I wasn't entirely sure why, at that moment, but there was, in the end, little time to analyze the situation. Nor was there really a need to do so, as it turned out, because all would be made sickeningly clear quite soon.

"What is this?" I asked, my voice suddenly my own, though it was wavering even more than it had been before.

"You need me," was the voice's only reply, and it replied with a silky, persuasive, insistent certainty. Its tone was no longer a whisper, but it was still distorted, the speaker still unrecognizable, and it was still uncomfortably, _disturbingly_ near to me, violating my personal space. I reached out a hand, expecting to encounter the smooth, cool metal of someone's skin, but there was still no one and nothing there.

There was, indeed, no one and nothing in the entire room except me and the muck. It was up to my knees now, a menacing, roiling silver-grey mass of goo liberally streaked here and there with swirled tendrils of black and red. I could not move my legs at all now, no matter how hard I tried. And the goo was not just filling the space outside of my body, either. It was filling me from within, as well, seeping through vulnerable armor joints and filling every cubic millimeter of empty space inside my body. And as it filled me physically, it filled me mentally, as well. It clearly had a mind of its own, and that mind was dominated by a cold, ruthless, all-encompassing need for power, for complete control. It _needed_ to control and to dominate me and everything else in the universe, as well.

Suddenly, I was truly frightened, as I had never been frightened in my life.

Suddenly, it was all I could do not to scream.

As if on cue, that was when the pain started, pain such as I had never known, pain from both within and without, as the muck that was filling my body and soul began to eat away at me like the most corrosive of acids. Helpless in its clutches, I screamed for all I was worth, and redoubled my efforts to escape from the ooze, to no avail. There was, I realized, nowhere that I could go to get away from it.

"You are _nothing_ without me," the voice suddenly insisted, its tone raised to be heard above my yelling. "You will never be _anything_ without me. You _belong_ to me. No one else would have the likes of you."

"Who _are_ you?!" I choked out pathetically against the pain. I was trying desperately to master it, fighting a losing battle to stay in control. The voice…it was so familiar…I should have known who it was, but it was still escaping my pain-addled mind.

The muck was up to my waist now, and it was beginning to crush me.

"I am everything you want to be but never will be," the voice whispered almost seductively as the pain continued to rage and the muck quickly rose to the level of my chest, continuing to fill me, embracing my spark, even.

And with that, the pain increased a hundred-fold, and I sagged under its assault like a marionette whose strings had been cut. A part of me, a part deep within me, was still rebelling against this experience, still insisting that I fight this…this whatever this was. But the majority of me suddenly surrendered. Utterly and completely. If the goo hadn't been holding me up in its relentless, demanding embrace, I would have been on my knees, cowed and completely defenseless.

…And begging…

…Maybe begging would help…

"Stop… " I gasped out helplessly, not entirely of my own volition. "Please, just make it stop. I'll…I'll do whatever you want…Just…please…"

A long, sadistic chuckle of relish was the only response I heard for a long moment. Then, "Mmmmm…Ohhhhh, yes… Yes, you're doing very well… So well…" the voice murmured in what was obviously pleasure and delight. It sickened me. Whoever this creature, this monster was, he was reveling in my pain and humiliation!

But then, suddenly, for a brief, delicious moment, the pain subsided entirely. All that I could think was that this sudden respite was my reward for my acquiescence, and a feeling of elation, almost of giddiness, raced through me. All I had to do was submit, I had just discovered, and the pain would go away… I just had to do what I was told…

_I'm doing well!_ I inwardly exulted, although the thought didn't seem to be entirely my own.. . _I'm doing well! I'm doing this right! He approves of me… _

I thought that perhaps so long as I continued to do well, so long as I continued to do what my tormentor wanted me to do, then the pain would stay away.

But I was wrong.

That moment of glorious painlessness, however long it had lasted, was perhaps the most sadistic moment of them all, in the end. For suddenly the pain was back. And it was worse. In fact, it _owned_ me. Or rather, whoever was inflicting the pain owned me.

And suddenly the muck was up to my chin and then up to my eyes...and then it closed with an ominous finality over my head. Despite my best efforts, it poured in a torrent down my throat, consuming me fully. I could no longer see. I no longer had a voice. I couldn't scream. I couldn't move. I couldn't defend myself. I could only attempt to endure, attempt to hold on to a sanity that I could already feel was beginning to fray around its edges. I was completely at the mercy of my tormentor. I was infused with his essence, bonded to him…

_Bonded_.

The thought, the _horror_ of the thought, suddenly burned through my mind. This was a bond, I realized, a sick, twisted, perversion of a bond, all one-sided, all take and no give. Further, this was something that Starscream had experienced recently, filtered by his current state of delirious near-unconsciousness, thus giving it the surreal, heavily symbolic quality that I was experiencing. But he had experienced the real thing, unfiltered by cushioning dream imagery. _Many_ times, in fact, he had experienced this kind of pain, this kind of assault, this kind of humiliation, this kind of torture. Of that, I was suddenly certain, beyond any shadow of a doubt.

As I realized that, a laugh born of pure, sadistic, malicious enjoyment, of gleeful mockery, echoed through my mind. That laugh, the hunger for power and control that I had sensed, the barrier that now existed between Starscream and me. That laugh… Primus, that cold, cruel, malevolent laugh. I knew it well, indeed.

_Megatron. _

Eons of humiliation and shame. That had been Starscream's lot in life while I had been deactivated. Somehow, alone and no doubt grieving for me in the wake of the accident that had separated us, he had met Megatron and… Oh, Primus, how he must have suffered over the millennia! What I was experiencing metaphorically, he had experienced physically, in one way or another, countless times during the long years of our separation.

And I had not been there to protect him. I had not been there to do _everything_ in my power to keep him…Megatron…that horrible, sadistic leech…from preying on my Starscream…

My Starscream. Broken now, perhaps beyond repair.

Fury suddenly built within me, morphing in an instant from a small flicker to a towering, raging inferno. It was a fury directed at Megatron and at myself. It was a blind rage that had to be expressed, that would not be denied.

And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the link between Starscream and I was broken. I didn't know how, and at that moment I was past caring. Lifting my face to the cheerfully sun-splashed heavens that suddenly arced above me, I unleashed a howl of anguish and rage that could probably be heard for miles around. And then, exhausted, deeply disturbed, and sickened by what I had just experienced, I collapsed helplessly to my hands and knees as I gasped and coughed and struggled mightily for breath, as if I really had been drowning in that muck and had just been released from it. And then, near to exhaustion, I raised my head to look at Starscream.

He must have been the one that had broken the link between us…somehow…for he was standing several paces away from me. The expression on his face was impassive, revealing nothing, but his entire body was shuddering violently, and his arms were wrapped protectively around his midsection. He was looking at me, but I was not certain that he was actually seeing me.

And for a long moment, I just stared at him. I had not the strength to say anything to him, and, besides that, for what seemed a long time I had not the faintest idea what to say to him. But then I managed, barely, to choke out, "Starscream, I am...sorry. I'm so sorry."

My words, if not the yell that had preceded them, seemed to break Starscream out of his reverie, and he leveled a focused, enraged gaze on me.

"You had no right," he said. His voice was a quiet growl, and although it was weakened and drained, it still managed to convey an all-consuming fury. "You had no right to do that, Skyfire. How _dare_ you?!"

"It was…not my intention…to do that, Starscream," I replied weakly, still struggling to stay on my hands and knees rather than collapse entirely to the ground, face first. My arms were shaking as much as my voice was… "It just…happened. The bond between us…it still exists."

As he backed away from me – putting physical distance, at least, between us again – Starscream answered me.

"No," he said, shaking his head vehemently, and his voice was shaking, too, with…fear? "No, it can't. It's too…too dangerous. If _he_ finds out, he'll… No! No, it's dead, Skyfire. It _has_ to be dead, do you understand me? We can't… We can't go back. Too much…too much has happened, and there's just… There's too much you'll never understand…"

And then, before I could gather the strength to formulate an answer to his fearful babbling, Starscream suddenly stopped himself, straightened his shoulders determinedly. Then, without any further words, he suddenly transformed and streaked off into the bright blue heavens and was, quite swiftly, gone. He was just a small dot in the sky, one that was retreating further and further away from me with each passing second.

What bothered me, of course, was that Starscream was more than just physically retreating from me. I knew, deep into the depths of my spark, that the thought of us rekindling what we had once had…it terrified him. He could not even entertain the notion. More than anything else, Starscream was retreating from that terror. I knew that.

And it was all because of _him_. Because of Megatron. And there was nothing I could do about it. Not while Megatron had Starscream in his physical and mental clutches, at least. Despair, overwhelming and powerful, overcame me at the thought.

It was a struggle to lift my face to the sky, but I knew that I had to do it. I had to see him. So I stared at the dot in the sky that was Starscream for as long as I could…and the very last thing I saw, before I collapsed in utter physical and emotional exhaustion to the Arctic ice, was a scintilla of perversely cheerful sunlight as it caught and reflected off of a sleek, graceful silver wing. It mocked me with its – with _his_ – beauty.

My Starscream, gone forever.

I did not even feel the chill of the ice against my body as I collapsed. I was, after all, already colder inside than it could ever be.


	9. Chapter 8

**_"I don't understand..." _**  
_Skyfire in "Fire in the Sky" _

Sometimes I can be quite…presumptuous, I suppose is a good word for it. Whenever a problem arises, I tend to think long and hard about it until I arrive at a reasonable and satisfactory resolution to the problem at hand, whatever it is. This, of course, is not a bad thing. The problem, though, is that once I decide upon that resolution to a problem, I am usually so certain that the solution that I've devised is the only correct one that I often miss vitally important elements in the original problem. In short, in arrogantly presuming that I have reached the only logical solution to a problem at hand, I have a tendency to very often miss the blazingly obvious.

And as I unpacked my gear and began to put it in some semblance of order, it occurred to me that Starscream, long ago, had been the one who had often pointed out to me exactly those blind spots in my careful, methodical reasoning. He had always had the innate and, to me, completely incomprehensible ability to get to the very heart of any problem almost instantly, to understand it fully without becoming mired in endless hours of analysis, and to solve it in what seemed to me to be the blink of an eye. That insight was a quality that I had very quickly come to admire and to rely upon. So now that Starscream wasn't around, I felt bereft and anchorless and incomplete. That feeling of incompleteness pervaded, of course, many different levels, but at the moment, I was very much missing Starscream's unique brand of insight, the kind that would likely quickly solve the problem that my mind had been chewing on over the past several weeks. Except, of course, that the problem involved Starscream himself, and he'd already proven that he couldn't solve this problem himself…but I put that thought carefully aside, moving on to the next one.

Starscream had always understood people and their emotions so well. That had always been an understanding that was far beyond my own grasp, although I had certainly come to take Starscream's knack for understanding people for granted, all those years ago. In truth, I had to rely on him because, if left to my own devices, I tended to handle individuals and troubling situations like I would handle a box full of disorganized spare parts. I would patiently and emotionlessly dissect, organize, and categorize everything and everyone, put them in their proper place, and then the problem was solved or the person was safely placed in his niche. No emotional attachment or empathy was necessary. Simple, clear, logical, detached thinking was all that was required to handle any person or any problem. Or so I thought, at least.

That sort of detached analysis was exactly what I had been doing concerning the issue of the current Starscream. Ever since the incident in the Arctic several weeks before, I had been determined to find a way to remove my former mate from his situation with Megatron. I had had a long time to think about the problem, since it had taken me a while to choose where I was going to set up my base, so after much careful thought, I had reached a reasonable solution and was quite confident that Starscream would understand and accept it. I had only to find him again, at an opportune time, when he was alone...

That time, I knew, would come eventually. For now, I contented myself with setting up my temporary camp on a small, deserted island in the Indonesian archipelago, an environment that was as far from the arctic as I could possibly find. And it was remote, as well, which I found somehow comforting. There were no humans for hundreds of miles in all directions. My only companions were the ubiquitous sea birds that inhabited the area and the waves that constantly crashed on the shore. Others might have thought it lonely and desolate, but here…here, in this place, I was at peace. I belonged here, as much as one such as I could belong anywhere on a bizarrely alien planet such as Earth. I was content. I even hummed a mindless tune while I worked.

I had just set up and turned on the small solar-powered energon generator that Wheeljack had given me just before I had left the Autobots, when I heard the distant sound of low-flying jet engines. Alarmed, thinking that the Decepticons may have discovered me, I backed up against the beach cliffs, concealing my bulk as best I could, and drew my gun. I looked up, squinted into the midday sun, and I felt a twinge of joy when I saw the familiar color and shape of the rapidly approaching red and silver F-15. I put my weapon away, but still stayed close to the cliffs as Starscream landed and transformed. After being shot twice by Starscream recently, I had learned that it was best to keep a little distance between us until he had made his intentions clear.

As I watched Starscream come in for an easy, graceful landing, I wondered, briefly, how he had managed to find me. I had used the bond between us to find him in the Arctic, and I imagined that he could have done the same to find me. It seemed odd, though; Starscream had been so adamant about the bond between us being dead, extinguished as though it had never been, that I couldn't imagine him actively using it in order to find me. Was it a subconscious use of it, perhaps…?

I supposed that I would just have to wait and see if I could find out the answer to my questions. I couldn't imagine Starscream coming here unless he intended to talk to me, so…talk to him, I would. Before that, though…I wanted some idea of what I was in for, so for a while, I just watched him, curious about what he would do now that he was here.

Starscream appeared to be in better shape than he had been at our last encounter. From my position, I could see no obvious injuries, and his movements were smooth and sure. He stood in the spot where he had landed for a long moment, glancing distastefully around my makeshift camp and the energon generator, taking in everything around him. Then, finally, he looked at me, right at me. There was no mistaking the look he gave me; his whole bearing seemed pensive and dark. Then, without saying a word, he walked over to a large storage container that I had not had a chance to empty yet, turned his back to me, and sat down on it. I watched him for a few moments, thinking that he'd eventually turn around and say something to me, tell me whatever it was that was on his mind…but he didn't.

So, I warily approached him and even more warily sat down on a large boulder next to the storage container. Now that I was closer to him, I saw the telltale signs of newer damage that had been inflicted on him, no doubt by Megatron during one of his perverted temper tantrums. Starscream's red paint was scratched off in several places and he had a few odd looking dents here and there. Although these new injuries were not nearly as severe as the previous ones I had seen, it still distressed me greatly to see them, even more so because I knew that Starscream, for some reason was _allowing_ that sort of damage to be inflicted upon him. Before he had left me in the Arctic, he had said that I would never understand him. I hoped that that did not prove true…but at that moment, if pressed, I would have had to admit that Starscream, as deeply and intimately as I knew him on one level, was a complete stranger to me on every other level.

I watched him as he just sat there, looking down at the sand around his feet, his arms folded tightly across his chest. I couldn't see his face because he was looking down and I was looming above him, but I could easily imagine the scowl that must have adorned it. Such an expression would, after all, match the anger that was radiating from him in almost palpable waves. Still, even though I knew that there was something bothering him profoundly…There was so much I wanted to say to him, anyway, so many things I wanted to ask. Our last encounter had revealed much about Starscream's current life, but it also left me with many more questions, questions far more disturbing than the few for which I had found answers. There was so much I still did not understand, but I was determined to return things to rights in whatever way I could. I decided to start by breaking the silence between us.

"I see you have taken some minor damage, Starscream," I said neutrally. "I have been collecting medical equipment for the past several weeks and—"

His head still hanging down, Starscream interrupted me with a dismissive wave of his hand, claiming that he didn't need my help, that Megatron had just lost a powerful potential energon resource on some strange, remote island, and that he had a tendency to knock everyone around when something like that happened. The story only made me sigh in resignation. Starscream was making excuses, and I suddenly felt a strong desire to point out that fact to him.

"But…he does not appear to 'knock everyone around' in quite the same way that he does to _you_, Starscream," I observed quietly, and as Starscream's gaze slid sideways to regard me with what appeared to me to be thoughtfulness, I added hurriedly, to take advantage of his perhaps thoughtful mood, "Why are you defending his actions? Why are you making excuses for him?"

I thought perhaps I had asked too bold and demanding of a question, and I expected a fiery response, but instead Starscream acted as if he had not heard me at all. He had jerked his gaze up to meet mine as I had spoken to him, but now his gaze moved away from me and settled with a far-away look in his eyes on the blue-green ocean spread out in front of him.

"Someday, Skyfire…" he said quietly, almost dreamily. "Someday, I will catch him when he is at his weakest. I'll destroy him and then take my rightful place as leader of the Decepticons. Then there'll be no more failed missions, no more retreats. Only victories. _My_ victories."

I sighed heavily. This was the "new" Starscream who was speaking, the Starscream whom I wasn't sure that I wanted to know. His obsession with power was disturbing. I was certain that Megatron had implanted it in him because it certainly hadn't been there when I had known Starscream. I leaned forward and tried to get Starscream to look at me while I spoke, but he stubbornly kept his gaze fixed on the watery expanse in front of us.

"But don't you see, Starscream?" I said imploringly. "Megatron knows that you are not a threat to him." He looked at me in that sideways manner again, his mouth twisting in an expression that was half question and half disdain. He said nothing, though, so I continued, "He dangles the possibility of leadership in front of you like bait in a trap, and every time you take that bait, he ensnares you and pulls you farther in. He is a _manipulator_, Starscream, an individual who lives for those sorts of games. He tried them with me once, and he failed. And I think he has been playing them with you for so long now that you are completely unable to see them for what they are."

For a brief moment, Starscream's face softened, and he tilted his head just slightly to the side, appearing to consider the words I had spoken. I should have closed my mouth then. I should have let the words that I had said sink in. I should have allowed Starscream to come to his own conclusions. But I didn't stop. I wanted so badly for him to see the truth. I wanted the beatings and the pain and the lies to stop. Most of all, I wanted him back with me, where I knew that he truly belonged, where he would be safe, where I could protect him for the rest of my life. So in my ignorance and self-assuredness, in my arrogant assumption that I had all the answers and that Starscream would heed me because I was right and he was wrong, I continued to speak.

"Megatron will never love you as _I_ love you, Starscream," I told him. "He is full of nothing but hatred and anger and greed. He is not capable of giving you what you deserve." I reached over and laid my hand on Starscream's shoulder, continuing to speak passionately, relentlessly, ignoring the fact that he flinched deeply when I touched him. "Megatron will not always be there for you, Starscream," I continued relentlessly. "Not like _I_ will. Eventually, he will find it more prudent to leave you than to keep you. If he does not kill you, Starscream, he will desert you somewhere."

I realized too late that I had pushed Starscream too far. His shoulder stiffened in my grasp, and his eyes suddenly blazed a few shades brighter with a fury the likes of which I had not seen since I had refused his order to execute several Autobots in the Arctic shortly after my reactivation. Growling, he swung an arm around and slapped my hand off his shoulder before standing and facing me. His whole body was shaking in pure rage as he pointed an accusing finger in my direction.

"_You_ are a _fine_ one to speak to me of abandonment, Skyfire!" he spat contemptuously at me. "You left me a long time ago, and you've been gone for millions of years! Megatron has _never_ deserted me, but _you_ certainly have! Twice now, in fact!"

With that, he folded his arms defiantly across his chest and glared malevolently up at me. I could only stare back, open-mouthed, at him. I was shocked and confused at his reaction. Once again he was defending the one who I believed brought him so much pain, and I could not understand that at all.

"But Starscream, he…_hurts_…you," I said, in a small, bewildered, hesitant voice. It was all I could think of to say as I recalled my experience in the Arctic, when I had inadvertently experienced a mere symbolic, surreal image of what Starscream went through on a regular basis with Megatron, of what he had _been_ going through for I knew not how many years now. _Why_ did he not see that his life was in danger? _Why_ did he not see that he did not deserve the type of treatment that he received at Megatron's hands? It was completely incomprehensible to me.

"No, Skyfire," Starscream was saying, meanwhile, in a deceptively calm and almost patronizing voice. "_You_ hurt me. You hurt me far worse than anything that Megatron could ever do to me. I _trusted_ you, you see. And you threw that trust away like so much scrap when _you_ decided that taking a risk to satisfy your damned scientific curiosity was more important than staying together. You insisted on doing that, you know. And I nearly killed myself looking for you after you crashed. I barely made it back to Cybertron because I was so desperate to find you. I searched as long as I possibly could. But you had deserted me. You deserted me last year, too, but worse than that, you deserted me long, long ago…" For a moment he seemed to slip into a trance, and he seemed to look right through me, as he added in a near-whisper, "And Megatron found me…"

His words, like the fangs of a cobra, pierced me to my very core. And just as snake venom paralyzes the snake's prey, the poisonous implications of what Starscream had said slowly worked their way to my brain, causing a sort of mental paralysis.

Starscream was right. He had said weeks ago in the Arctic that his current situation was my fault. I had not at all understood what he had meant then, but now I knew that he was horribly, dreadfully right. Sudden waves of guilt crashed over me as Starscream stared angrily at me. His expression demanded a response, but I was certain that I would not be able to formulate a suitable one. Still, I tried.

"But…there were…I mean, I…I did not know…" I stammered feebly.

Starscream's scowl deepened – if that was possible – at that, his eyes shooting lasers into mine as his fury continued to burn.

"Don't give me that!" he spat contemptuously. "You knew _exactly_ what you were doing, Skyfire. You knew the standard procedures for entering the atmosphere of an unknown planet with unstable and unpredictable weather patterns. I _still_ remember them even now! And I reminded you about them back then, too. Repeatedly! But noooo! You _insisted_ that we look closer, caution be damned. You and your damned stubbornness, your stupid need to know! You called me silly for being fearful. You wouldn't listen to me. Why does no one _ever_ listen to me?!"

Silence hung between us for a moment after Starscream's plaintive last question. Neither of us said anything during that moment, I because I could think of nothing to say in my own defense, he because he needed to catch his breath in order to finish his tirade. His face wrought with an all-consuming fury, Starscream raised a trembling fist and pointed a laser rifle at the center of my chest, point blank range. For some reason, perhaps because my thoughts were otherwise reeling, my attention was morbidly drawn to the way the bright sunlight glinted from the weapon's sleek curves and angles.

"I…_hate…_you!" Starscream growled quietly, meanwhile, his voice seeming to come from deep down in his chest, from deep down in his soul. And somehow, that seemed worse to me than if he had yelled the words at the top of his voice.

Time seemed to stand still as once again I looked down into the barrel of my former mate's gun. All of my carefully thought out deductions, all of my logical reasoning, my simplistic rationality, had suddenly come crashing down around me in a worthless, shameful heap. In my arrogance, I had thought that I could solve all of Starscream's problems with a few warm sentiments and a stream of loving, softly-spoken, supportive words. As if a few words could heal all of the damage that had been done him.

How, I wondered as I stared at Starscream's weapon, could I be so very blind?

I looked into the eyes of the person that I loved more than life itself, and I saw only anger and pain in them. Pain of which I had been the ultimate cause, of course. And I thought, at that moment, that I deserved nothing less than death, that perhaps my death would be true justice. If killing me would bring Starscream some measure of happiness, however fleeting, then I was completely willing to submit to him, to sacrifice myself.

But just at the moment that I had reached that conclusion, that I had decided to tell Starscream, in all seriousness, to kill me, that I had locked my gaze calmly and levelly with his in preparation for my death, Starscream cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at me, raptly studying my face for a moment that seemed to last forever.

"I know that look," he said flatly after a long moment of staring at me. "You're thinking, aren't you? Well, that's just marvelous!" he announced as he threw up his arms in frustration. "I guess some things really never change, do they?" He paused and crossed his arms over his chest then, and an icy coolness settled over him as he watched me, replacing the fiery rage of a moment before. "Fine, then," he said with a distinct chill in the tone of his voice. "You think about it, Skyfire. You think about all of it. You think long and hard about what _you_ did. Perhaps someday you'll understand. But know this: What we had in the past means _nothing_ to me anymore. Do you understand me? _Nothing_! That's what I came here to tell you today. So just stay away from me. Leave me alone. In fact, you can sit here and rot on this Primus-forsaken beach for all I care, because I'm _never_ returning!"

He spun around then, transformed, and took off, his afterburners kicking up hot sand into my face. I hardly felt it, though. My mind was reeling in shock, and my body was entirely numb. I listened as the sound of Starscream's jet engines grew fainter and more distant, until once again I could hear only the rhythmic crashing of the waves on the shoreline and the cries of the screeching seabirds that circled high overhead.

Now it was my turn to stare down at the sand around my feet. I felt completely broken, utterly desolate, wondering how I could have been so foolish? I had betrayed Starscream's trust not once, but twice, first when I stubbornly ignored his advice and ended up trapped in a polar ice cap on a then-uninhabited planet and then again when he and his comrades had revived me and I had subsequently turned my back on him and joined the Autobots, his enemies. And now I just expected him to trust me, to return to me as if nothing had happened? What had I been _thinking_? My own self-righteousness, my own stubborn and rigid sense of right and wrong, had caused me to be blinded to the truth, blinded to Starscream and his situation.

And why had Starscream not killed me just then? I was convinced that I certainly deserved it. But perhaps he was right, after all. Perhaps this _was _the best punishment for the crimes that I had committed against him: To sit…and think…and dwell…


	10. Chapter 9

**_"All right! Shape up, you two!"_**  
_Thundercracker in "Countdown to Extinction" _

Skywarp stuck his head tentatively into the room, squinted into the darkness with a perplexed frown on his face. Finally noticing me sitting on the floor, he loudly demanded of me, "Why's it so damned _dark_ in here?

It was dark, of course, because I hadn't yet gathered the presence of mind to think of turning on the lights. It was also dark simply because I _wanted_ it to be dark. Darkness, at least for me, facilitated ordered, rational thinking which in turn tended to calm me. And at the moment I needed calm.

I told none of this to Skywarp, though. I merely stared back at him through the dim lights of our quarters. So, since I hadn't seen fit to answer Skywarp's first question, he sighed at me and then apparently decided to enter the room and ask me another one, maybe thinking that he'd get a more satisfying reaction out of me. He knew that if I was sitting in the dark, then I was probably busy thinking…and he knew that, of late, I had been given to pondering rather unpleasant topics.

"Where the hell have you _been_, Thundercracker?" Skywarp plaintively asked, as he paced like a caged black panther back and forth in front of my spot on the floor. "You were _supposed_ to be down in the Rec Room two hours ago!"

I knew that. I knew that I was supposed to be meeting Skywarp in the Rec Room for some mysterious reason known only to Skywarp. Since I was always instantly wary whenever Skywarp tried to convince me that he needed me for something but at the same time refused to specify exactly _why _he needed me, I'd ended up dawdling in my quarters instead. And because of that, I unfortunately had ended up being a vicarious witness, yet again, to the commotion that had just occurred in Starscream's quarters.

Starscream's quarters were just across and down the corridor a few doors from Skywarp's and mine. His quarters were close enough to ours that, unfortunately, if something loud was happening in his quarters, we were usually able hear it in ours. Lately, very loud things seemed to be happening in Starscream's quarters more and more often. The latest episode, in fact, had just ended a moment ago, and _that_ was what had triggered this latest thinking spell of mine. And it occurred to me, as Skywarp stood over me, staring down at me demandingly, that he had to have _known_ what was going to happen and that _that_ was why he'd wanted me in the Rec Room with him rather than here, alone in our quarters. Sneaky…

Sneaky or not, though, I realized at that moment that I should have had the sense to leave my quarters and join Skywarp, that I should have had the sense to leave my quarters as soon as I'd heard Megatron heading purposefully down the corridor. I should have done what Skywarp had wanted me to do. But instead, I had stayed.

I had stayed, and I had heard Megatron's loud, distinctive footsteps marching slowly down the corridor that ran outside my quarters. His steps had been heavy, stomping, and rhythmic, and they had clearly conveyed Megatron's simmering anger with Starscream. They had passed my quarters and had then halted, as I'd known they would, outside of Starscream's quarters, to which Megatron had banished Starscream as soon as we'd returned to base after the whole Negavator fiasco. Megatron had entered Starscream's quarters…and the noise had started shortly thereafter.

There had been a brief argument between the two of them. I could hear the tone of their voices, could even occasionally make out some of the vicious, heated words they'd yelled at each other. But the argument had quickly devolved into a spate of high-pitched yelping that, although the actual words had been muffled, had seemed to me to be more like pleading than arguing. Then there had been several loud crashes that could only have been a body thrown against a wall and that had made me cringe in empathy despite myself, followed by a sudden, all-consuming silence that had, contrarily, spoken volumes. And then, just a short time later, Megatron's footsteps had marched back up the corridor and past my door again, only this time his steps had been quite obviously lighter than they had been earlier, as if tossing Starscream around the room and doing Primus knew what else to him had served the purpose of suddenly putting Megatron in a much better mood.

I should have known that the confrontation between Starscream and Megatron was going to happen. After this latest incident with the Negavator and Starscream's apparent collusion with an Autobot, Megatron had been in a rage, worse than I'd ever seen him, even after the Nightbird affair months ago. He had needed to vent that rage upon something. Or upon some_one_. That someone, naturally, was Starscream. I had known that it was going to happen, although I hadn't exactly expected to be something of a spectator of that venting. That was what had sent me reeling into a flurry of disturbed and disorganized thoughts. That was why I'd ended up sitting on the floor of my quarters as if rooted to the spot, trying desperately, on the one hand, to forget what I'd just overheard while on the other hand trying in vain to understand it.

I felt…violated, perhaps, as if whatever had been inflicted upon Starscream had somehow been similarly inflicted upon me. In the aftermath, I felt dazed, confused and, in the end, angry. I was angry not on Starscream's behalf, but simply because I had been subjected to what I'd overheard when I had wanted no part of it, when I had wanted to simply be able to ignore the two of them in favor of minding my own business. But that, it seemed, was impossible for me.

I wanted to talk to Skywarp. I needed him, wanted him. I wanted him to just gather me up, carry me away, and make it all go away, make it all better. But…I just couldn't _tell_ him that, even though he was right there in the room with me, staring at me as if he thought I was some kind of lunatic. I just felt…frozen.

Skywarp, meanwhile, was growing impatient with my lack of response to his questions. He grumbled something under his breath and then stomped over to me and crouched down in front of me. Then he grabbed my chin none too gently to get my attention, forcibly and demandingly raising my downturned gaze to his.

"Hey!" he barked as he stared into my eyes. "Anyone home in there?"

"I'm here," I murmured after a moment spent staring dully at him. My voice sounded, even to me, a little on the slurred and shell-shocked side.

"Well then, answer the question. Where've you _been_?" Skywarp repeated, exasperated.

"I was here," I answered Skywarp quietly, vaguely, in the same dull, stunned sort of voice I'd used before. I looked across at him, and I noticed that he was quite clearly exasperated with me. That didn't seem to sink into my head, though; I had absolutely no idea, at that moment, why in the world Skywarp would be exasperated with me. I was too busy trying to stop my head from spinning as my mind tried to assimilate all that it had just absorbed. "I was…thinking," I elaborated when Skywarp said nothing in reply to me.

"Oh, what a shock!" was Skywarp's sarcastic and, to my audios, somewhat miffed response as he plopped himself unceremoniously onto his backside in front of me. "What was it _this_ time?" he wanted to know. "Pondering why humans drive on parkways and park on driveways?"

His sarcastic tone of voice had the effect of wrenching me firmly back to reality. My thoughts, which had been spinning and fuzzy, were suddenly clear, almost to the point of being rational.

"No," I replied evenly, which was all I said for a long moment. But then, after gathering my nerve, taking a deep preparatory breath, and looking Skywarp straight in the eye, I dove headlong into the issue at hand. "No, this time I was actually thinking about Starscream and Megatron."

It would have been difficult, if not impossible, to overhear what I'd just overheard and _not_ subsequently think about the two of them. It just seemed to me that, this time, I couldn't think _straight_ about them. I couldn't comprehend what I'd just heard, the reason that it had happened, or the reason that something very similar had happened on numerous other occasions – and more and more frequently – in the recent past. Most of all, I couldn't comprehend the reasons why Starscream would tolerate the punishments that he received from Megatron and, worse, why he sometimes seemed to deliberately provoke Megatron into giving him such punishments. In this particular case, with the Negavator incident, Starscream _had_ to have known that Megatron would have somehow found out about his clandestine dealings with an Autobot, and he _had_ to have known what the consequences of his actions would be when – not if, _when_ – he was found out. Yet, he hadn't seemed to care.

Starscream wasn't stupid. That much I knew. There was usually a distinct method to even his most outrageous madness. Perhaps he had thought that the possible result of his actions – getting rid of Megatron – justified the risks involved with the plan he'd devised. But somehow…I didn't think that was the case. Something else seemed to be driving Starscream lately, making him do all sorts of flamboyantly crazy things that he had to know would only have unfortunate consequences…but I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that was compelling him to be even more outrageous than usual.

Whatever was driving Starscream, though, I'd noticed a definite cyclical pattern in his and Megatron's relationship of late, a pattern that overhearing their latest confrontation had made crystal-clear to me. Starscream would go through a period of relentlessly provoking Megatron, to the point that Megatron _had_ to retaliate against him. Megatron would then react, lately with increasingly brutal violence, and then Starscream would afterwards be chastened and quiet and obedient…for a little while. But he'd eventually go right back to provoking Megatron, starting the whole cycle over again. And, as if that wasn't enough, I'd also noticed that if Starscream wasn't regularly doing any provoking, then Megatron would do something that would set Starscream up for a fall so that Megatron, in turn, could retaliate against him anyway.

I didn't understand it at all. Any of it. It was a pattern that profoundly disturbed me not so much because I really cared about either of the individuals involved or about what they chose to do to each other in private, but rather because it seemed to me as if both of them were obsessing so much about each other that nothing else was being accomplished.

I knew that I should probably talk to Skywarp about whole issue. He was the person to whom I always turned whenever I had a problem. I depended upon him for that. But in this case, Skywarp was…Skywarp, of course. He was and always had been fiercely loyal to Megatron. Megatron always came first; he'd told me that more than once. At the same time, he had always been extremely competitive with Starscream, neither of which made it likely that he'd be able to discuss the issue that was plaguing me with anything resembling objectivity. He'd brushed off my concerns after the Nightbird incident, and I was certain he'd do the same now. Nevertheless, I knew that I needed to talk to _someone_, and Skywarp was the only individual in the entirety of Decepticon Headquarters who _might_ listen to me, even if it was only because he might feel obligated to do so. And that was all I needed, really. Just someone to listen to me when I talked. I didn't expect anyone to do anything about the problem, really. I knew, after all, that there really were no answers and solutions to the issue at hand, short of killing either Megatron or Starscream. The issue was simply way too complex for one or two people to solve.

So, I had brought up the subject in a rather point-blank kind of way. I was curious to see what Skywarp's reaction would be to my revelation that it was Megatron and Starscream who were plaguing my thoughts. As it turned out, he reacted pretty much as I'd thought he would react. For a fleeting moment, his expression went completely blank, as if that was the last answer in the world that he'd expected to hear from me. But then comprehension dawned on him. He rose to his feet then and looked as if he wanted to pace around the room but found that he was oddly frozen to the spot. So he looked down at me and spoke to me in a calm and detached voice, as if what was happening between our leader and his second-in-command was no big deal at all.

"So they were at it again, huh?" he said neutrally. "In Starscream's quarters?"

"Yes," I said bleakly, rising to my feet as well so that he wouldn't be able to continue looking down at me, as if he were…judging me. "Yes, they were. For almost an hour."

Skywarp sighed exasperatedly. In fact, if he were he human, I'm quite certain he would have rolled his eyes at me.

"Thundercracker, _why_ are you letting them get to you so much?" he asked wearily. "I told you to just ignore them. That's what I do."

Skywarp's response was irritating, mostly because, deep down, I wished that I _could_ just ignore Starscream and Megatron and their…oddities. My life would be infinitely easier if I _could_ just ignore them. I could just do my job like I was supposed to do and just not worry about anything else. How much more enjoyable my life would be if I could just do that! But I couldn't do that. It wasn't in my nature. My nature was to contemplate, to rationalize, to explain, to convince myself that something was or was not right. In this particular case, it just wasn't easy to do that, and that frustrated me. Unfortunately, that frustration came out quite clearly in what I said next.

"Well, ignorance just isn't as easy for everyone else as it seems to be for _you_, Skywarp," I sniped, folding my arms defensively across my chest.

There was quite a bit more acid in my tone than I'd intended it to have. After all, I was more annoyed with myself than I was with Skywarp. It wasn't _his_ fault that I couldn't simply ignore the situation and let things be, as he could so easily do. So, I regretted the words as soon as they were out of my mouth and _especially_ after Skywarp aimed a genuinely irritated – and hurt – glare at me. He was often teased about being just a little bit on the air-headed side, so he was somewhat used to it. He could usually laugh off such taunts or at least come back with some well-aimed barbs of his own. But he wasn't at all used to hearing such taunts coming from me. In fact, _I_ wasn't used to hearing them coming from me, either. Still, I felt that some important things needed to be said, and I wasn't going to get sidetracked now by attempting to mollify Skywarp's bruised ego.

"Don't you see what's been going on around here, Skywarp?" I asked plaintively of him, hoping against hope that he did see things as they were and that he'd be willing to talk to me.

Of course, that was too great a hope…

"Oh, _yeah_," Skywarp answered me, angry sarcasm dripping from his voice as he stiffened his back and crossed his own arms over chest, mirroring my determined stance. "Yeah, I've seen _you_ being all weird and broody ever since that whole Nightbird thing a few months back. That's what _I've_ seen going on around here."

I sighed wearily and rubbed at my forehead, instantly regretting bringing up the whole subject with Skywarp. I had known that he'd turn the argument into an attack against me. When it came to discussing anything regarding Megatron that I disagreed with, that was always Skywarp's favorite defensive tactic. Usually, it worked; I'd retreat into a defensive little shell and skulk away with what was left of my dignity in the wake of his withering sarcasm. But this time I was determined that I wasn't going to allow Skywarp's favorite tactic to work against me.

"This isn't about _me_, Skywarp," I replied with a weary sigh. "This is about _them_."

Skywarp snorted derisively and retorted, "How many times do I have to tell you before you get it through that thick head of yours, Thundercracker? They've _always_ been…the way they are."

"No, Skywarp," I countered quietly. I began to pace around the room while continuing, "No, that isn't true. I know it isn't true because I've _seen_ them change myself. Maybe you don't see it, or maybe you do see it but just don't want to acknowledge it. Or whatever. But they _have_ changed. They weren't at each other's throats nearly as often back on Cybertron. Don't you remember? How it used to be? Back on Cybertron? We _used_ to be successful, Skywarp. We _used_ to _rule_ Cybertron. All of it. People lived in fear of us. The Autobots were practically extinct. But _now_ look at us. We cower under an ocean, and we're thwarted at every turn. Megatron's plans since our arrival here have ultimately led to nothing but failure. The _humans_ outwit us! And I can't help but wonder if that isn't at least partly because Megatron seems to have his mind more focused on other things than on the overall Decepticon cause."

"They've always…poked each other," was all that Skywarp said to me after that long speech. "You know that. You've been there all along to see it."

I stopped pacing then and turned around to face Skywarp, wondering if he'd heard a word that I'd said. I knew that he could be defensive, even protective, when it came to Megatron, but I never expected that he'd not even be willing to see reason when someone carefully laid the facts out in front of him. I resolved to try to make my point even clearer.

"Yes, I have been," I conceded. "But I don't think you even heard what I said, Skywarp. Yeah, they poked each other back on Cybertron. _Sometimes_. But those occasions were not _nearly_ as frequent back then as they are now if only because, half the time, Starscream was halfway around the planet from Megatron back then. There was physical distance between them that they can't have now since we're all stuck in this damned tin can. But even back then, even with the occasional flare-ups, they worked well as a team, and we often _won_ back then. We don't win now, Skywarp. We _never_ win. Ever stop to think about why that might be so?"

Skywarp didn't answer me for a long time. He just stared at me, his expression half thoughtful and half baleful. When he did finally speak up, though, his voice was low and quiet. It was, for him, the very first sign of genuine anger. So, I knew then that I was treading on dangerous ground…but for some strange reason, I felt that I had to keep going.

"There could be any number of reasons why we're not winning right now, Thundercracker," Skywarp was growling at me, meanwhile. "This is a different planet, a totally different environment, and it's inhabited by billions of hostile natives. Individually, they're of no threat to us, but when there are billions of them underfoot…Well, that calls for some different strategy. Megatron just hasn't found the right one to use yet and so we've had some…setbacks. But that doesn't mean that he's become so obsessed with Screamer, or whatever the hell it is that you're implying, that he doesn't care about the cause anymore."

"Oh really?" I retorted. "Just some 'setbacks'? Well, answer me this, then, Skywarp: Why are Starscream and Megatron getting worse when it comes to fighting with each other, to the point of physical violence like…_that_?" I asked, waving at the wall in order to indicate what I'd just overheard in Starscream's quarters.

"Because Screamer's getting dumber by the day and insists on bringing it all on himself," Skywarp immediately and scathingly shot back. When I only speared him with an irritated glance in reply, he continued, "Hey, if he's stupid enough to do that, then as far as I'm concerned he deserves whatever the hell he gets. I mean, this time he openly plotted against Megatron. With an Autobot! Is Megatron supposed to just overlook that? Pat him on the head and send him on his merry way?"

"No," I replied as calmly and patiently as I could, coming to rest in my pacing in front of Skywarp. "No, of course he isn't supposed to overlook that. Not if he wants to remain a respected leader."

"See?" Skywarp said with a triumphant grin, as if his reasoning explained everything.

Ignoring him, I added, "But he _also_ isn't supposed to set Starscream up like he did."

Skywarp frowned quizzically at me then, as if I'd just said something completely nonsensical. Of course, to him what I'd said probably _was_ nonsensical. He had the blind faith and the worshipful attitude that Megatron always did the right thing, or at least that he always had a logical reason for everything that he did, even if Skywarp himself couldn't follow the bouncing logic ball.

"I'm not following where you're going here," Skywarp answered me after a long while spent frowning at me, as if he was trying to decide whether or not I'd lost my mind. "Set him up? What, you think Megatron somehow put the idea to turn traitor into Starscream's little head and then just turned him loose to do it?"

"No, I think Megatron's _way_ more subtle than that," I replied bitterly. When Skywarp just gave me a disbelieving – and slightly betrayed – look in response, I elaborated, "Oh, come _on_, Skywarp! He left Starscream behind! Alone! And you can't tell me that Starscream did anything wrong or provoked Megatron _that_ time. I mean, if _anyone_ should have been left behind, it should have been Ramjet, since _he_ was the one who actually screwed up!"

"So he left him behind," Skywarp answered with a dismissive shrug. "Screamer's a big boy. I'm sure he could have found his way home just fine. Besides, whatever Megatron did and whatever reason he had for doing it, it doesn't give Starscream a license to go off and find an Autobot to pal around with and plot with and Primus knows what else. It doesn't give him a license to be a traitor."

I got the sudden sense that Skywarp wasn't listening to me anymore, that I'd strayed into a topic that he didn't even want to contemplate, much less discuss, and he'd completely closed his mind to what I was saying. He might as well have covered up his audios and begun singing, _La la la…I can't hear you!_ I realized at that moment that my efforts to make Skywarp see what was going on were probably going to be spectacularly futile. Nevertheless, I had to reply.

"No," I said with a resigned sigh. "But it _does_ make it a hell of a lot easier for him to decide to become one."

Skywarp just looked at me askance then, his head tilted inquisitively to the side, like a befuddled dog. He had no idea what I was trying to say. That might have been because I wasn't explaining myself very clearly, but more likely, it was because Skywarp truly didn't _want_ to understand what I was trying to tell him. Skywarp had his opinion of Megatron, and he didn't want to have to change it. Skywarp liked the status quo, and I was trying to make him see that the status quo absolutely needed to change. Normally, I would have given up in the effort when I realized that Skywarp was no longer listening to me. Continuing to try to convince him would be completely useless, like beating my head against a wall. But this time I felt that the issue was important, perhaps more important than any issue we'd ever discussed before. I felt deeply compelled to get through to Skywarp, to convince him that he needed to think about this issue and its possible repercussions for all of us, for the entire Decepticon organization. So this time, I didn't give up.

"Don't you _see_, Skywarp?" I elaborated imploringly. "Megatron deliberately put Starscream into that situation, and he knew exactly how Starscream was going to react to it, too. He knew that Starscream would act against him in some way. In fact, I'd almost say that he _wanted_ Starscream to act against him, just to give him an excuse to do…that," I said, waving at the wall again. "Otherwise," I finished, "why would Megatron have had Ravage go back to find and follow Starscream? Not to retrieve him, of course, but just to spy on him? Obviously, Megatron did that so that he would know _exactly_ what Starscream was doing at any given moment while he was gone. So that Starscream could suffer the consequences when he returned."

My logic seemed to have no visible effect on Skywarp's attitude. He simply stood there, his arms still folded tightly over his chest. I could tell that I'd angered him. He was now displaying all his usual symptoms of anger, not just the low, growly voice. His posture was rigidly erect, and it seemed to me that if he gripped the datapad he held in one hand any tighter, it would be crushed in his grasp. He was scowling fiercely, and his eyes were narrowed, glimmering a dark and baleful red in the dimness.

"Did it ever occur to you," Skywarp was grinding out around an angrily clenched jaw, meanwhile, "that _maybe_ Megatron just wanted to see if he could really trust Starscream? That _maybe_ Megatron's considering replacing Starscream with someone else, and he wants to see if it's really necessary to do so right now? I mean, there could be a _billion_ reasons why Megatron did what he did, even if he _did_ 'set up' Starscream. And whatever the real reason is, I'm sure it's a logical one. Because what you're suggesting is just…sick."

After that pronouncement, a long, chilly silence sat between Skywarp and me. It was like a thick but transparent wall, and we stared at each other through it, as if daring each other to be the next to speak. It was a standoff, one from which I, under normal circumstances, would have backed away. But this time, for once, _I_ was the one who picked up the gauntlet.

"Exactly," I pronounced flatly, emotionlessly. Skywarp, after all, had hit the nail on the head, as far as I was concerned. "'Sick' would be a very good word for it, Skywarp. And it's a sickness that's going to destroy the Decepticons."

Skywarp stared at me for a long moment after that, his expression an odd mixture of outrage, disbelief, and a perverse kind of amusement. And then, completely unexpectedly, he laughed out loud. Once he'd caught his breath after that short outburst, he spat scathingly, "Destroy the Decepticons? Oh, _riiiiight_, Thundercracker!"

"I'm _serious_!" I shot back. "Their…their _thing_…is ruining morale. I see signs of it all over the place, even right now, right here between you and me. People are tense, overly-sensitive, too quick to argue and fight. We don't function as a unit anymore. We don't even seem to have a real _cause_ anymore. And _that_ is what will destroy the Decepticons in the end. Because the cause is the only thing that really holds all of us together. Without that, we'll just be at each other's throats. And where will that get us?"

For a moment that seemed to last for hours, Skywarp just shook his head disbelievingly at me. There was a look almost of pity on his face, as if he pitied the unknown, insane person who stood before him. Behind that, though, there was…rage. It was a rage like I'd never seen in him, especially because he'd never directed rage at me before. He'd been annoyed with me often, irritated with me occasionally, even genuinely angry at me for a brief time on half a dozen occasions. But this was…different. Different because I'd never openly criticized Megatron so vehemently before, not in all the many long years that I'd been with Skywarp. Skywarp, in some weird, twistedly protective way, considered criticism of Megatron to be criticism of himself…and Skywarp generally didn't take well to criticism. So, I'd always known what would happen if I had ever decided to voice my displeasure with anything Megatron did or ordered. I knew that Skywarp would be enraged if I did so, and I had never thought any voicing of my thoughts to be worth that consequence. So I'd always avoided the topic, kept it to myself, bottled it up in order to keep the peace. But now I'd reached my limit. Skywarp couldn't handle that.

"You want to know what I think?" Skywarp uttered flatly, uncrossing his arms and taking a couple of steps toward me so that he could belligerently poke me in the chest with one finger. "_I_ think," he continued without giving me any time at all to reply, "that you've gone so crazy that you're seeing things that aren't there. I think that you can't even _think_ straight anymore because of all those damned voices that I know are swimming around in your head. In other words, my _dear_ Thundercracker, I think you're completely…out…of…your…_mind_," he finished, punctuating each word with a hard poke at my chest. "And _I _don't have to put up with that."

With that, Skywarp tried to turn away from me. His next step, I knew, would be to storm away from me in an overly dramatic show of disgust. He'd done that a couple of times before, on the very rare occasions when we'd had a loud argument that he thought I might win. He'd run away from me. But I was determined not to let that happen this time. As Skywarp turned away from me and began to take a step toward the door, I reached out and grabbed his arm. His momentum snapped him around to face me again and, since he was knocked off balance, I was able to pull him close to me, so that we were eye-to-eye.

"You want to know what _I_ think, Skywarp?" I hissed, snarling in his face. "_I_ think that you're so blinded by loyalty to Megatron that you can't see what's going on right in front of your face. I think that you're willing to overlook and forgive and justify to yourself _anything_ that he does so long as _you're_ not forced to change your opinion of him. I think that you'll do _anything_, so long as he stays happy with _you_. I think that you're quite happy to be whatever _he_ wants you to be, that you don't care if he manipulates you into doing and thinking exactly what _he_ wants you to do and think. And in that, I think you're not at all different from Starscream, and that maybe _that's_ why he grates on you so much. In other words, my _dearest_ Skywarp, even if I'm crazy at least _I _can think for myself, which is more than I can say for _you_."

I still had one of Skywarp's arms clenched in a tight grip. Through that grip, I could feel him trembling. I'd known that what I'd said to him would enrage him. Eons of my frustration with Skywarp's loyalty-at-all-costs attitude had come flying out at him, right in Skywarp's face. As I'd said the words, I'd felt, quite simply, that he _deserved_ to hear my ire. After all, what Skywarp had said was quite true; sometimes the voices in my head, each advising me to take a different action, could drive me to distraction, to the point that I'd be reduced to complete _in_action simply because I couldn't decide what, precisely, to do. I feared that, one day, the voices would take over, that I would truly be irretrievably insane. I'd known other Decepticons who'd traveled down that road to complete psychosis, and I didn't care to follow them. It was my greatest fear, one that was even more intimidating than my fear of losing Skywarp. Skywarp knew all this, and yet he'd still chosen to poke me in that one exquisitely sensitive spot, knowing that it would do the most damage in the shortest time and with the fewest words. So I had retaliated by poking him back in what I knew was his weakest area. I knew that doing so was petty in the extreme…but it sure felt good.

As good as it felt, though, I knew it had been a mistake to provoke Skywarp in that way when Skywarp emitted a low growl and then, completely unexpectedly, he raised his other arm to me, the one that I didn't have held in a firm grasp, the one that still clutched the datapad in a tight fist. For a moment, it didn't register with me what Skywarp was intending to do. I didn't understand that, in that moment, he'd decided to give me a good backhanded whack in return for what I'd said. Instinctively, I cringed, pulled away from Skywarp, turned my face away from him to protect it from the blow that I suddenly knew was coming…and then belatedly realized that it never came.

I cautiously peeked at Skywarp then, only to see that his arm was still drawn back, prepared to deliver a blow, but also that his face was frozen in horror. It took me a moment to realize that his horror wasn't directed at me for what I'd said but at himself for what he'd been about to do. Stunned, he slowly lowered his arm, staring at his hand as if it had betrayed him, as he took a shaky step backward, away from me. The silence that followed after that was broken only by the sound of the datapad that Skywarp had been holding in his raised hand clattering to the floor after he'd dropped it. He backed a few more steps away from me, only to stumble into the chair that was behind him, nearly losing his balance, but managing to catch himself before he fell in an extremely undignified way. And then he sank heavily into the chair, staring at me wildly for a moment before slouching forward so that he could bury his face in his hands.

"What's happening here, Thundercracker?" he asked after a long moment spent motionlessly slumped over in his chair. He didn't look up at me as he asked the question, and his voice was muffled because he was speaking through his hands.

It was a strange question to ask, I thought, and for a long moment, I just stood there, not knowing exactly how to respond to it or to Skywarp's behavior in general. On the one hand, I was glad that he hadn't hit me, of course. I wasn't sure that I would have known how to handle that, although I was fairly certain that I would have retaliated in kind and then who knew how things might have gone after that. Likely, it wouldn't have been pretty at all. But Skywarp's current behavior was in some ways more perplexing than his previous behavior. I'd pushed him, and he'd reacted. His reaction had been unexpected, yes, but not unprovoked. But now…now he seemed to be wallowing in something that seemed strangely like guilt. It occurred to me that perhaps Skywarp hadn't expected to hit me either and that now he didn't know what to make of what he'd almost done.

Hesitantly, I knelt down in front of the chair in which Skywarp was sitting. I didn't touch him; I just stared at him, sitting back on my heels. I wasn't entirely sure what I was going to say to him; I was still quite angry with him for what he'd said, and I wasn't sure that I actually _wanted_ to speak to him further. But in the end, I noticed that all the rage seemed to have drained itself from Skywarp, and I had always found it difficult to be angry with someone who refused to reciprocate. And he'd asked a question, so I figured that I had to at least attempt an answer.

"This is just what I mean, Skywarp," I said quietly after a long moment spent calming myself, stowing the anger safely away again, as I thought about how to answer him. "I'm seeing it all over the place."

Skywarp looked up at me then, the perplexed expression back on his face. "Seeing what?" he asked bleakly.

"Just…this sense of…repressed anger…all over the place," I answered hesitantly. "And sometimes it comes to the surface when you least expect it. Like now, with the two of us. And remember the other day, when Hook and Scrapper were in the repair bay, yelling at each other and pushing each other around?"

"They always argue," Skywarp countered, shrugging one shoulder in careless dismissal.

"But not like that," I countered. "And they're not the only ones. Look at _us_, Skywarp . We _don't _usually argue. Not like this."

"I'm sorry, Thundercracker," Skywarp said, with genuine remorse. He leaned back in his chair, stared up at the ceiling with a dazed, faraway expression on his face. "I wanted to hit you. I wanted to _hurt_ you."

"I know," I said coolly, neither accepting nor rejecting his apology for the moment. "I know you did. And this is exactly what I _mean_, Skywarp. Look, personally, I really don't care if Megatron and Starscream choose to obsess over each other and to beat the hell out of each other on occasion. If they were _anyone_ else, their perversions wouldn't matter. But they're our _leaders_, Skywarp. They set the tone. They set the example for how we're all supposed to behave, how we're all supposed to treat each other."

Skywarp nodded his head, but he didn't say anything. His expression was still rather dazed and distant, so that I couldn't tell if he was agreeing with me or not. But the fact that he nodded meant that he was at least listening to me…

"But _they_ don't seem to realize that," I continued imploringly. "And they don't seem to care that the Decepticons are falling apart. We're _losing_ the war, Skywarp. Everything we try fails, and all _they_ seem to care about is how they can pick at each other next. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of it. The whole thing… it scares me. I feel like I've dedicated my life to a lost cause that even the leaders don't seem to care about anymore. And if _they_ don't care about the cause, then why should you and I – why should _anyone_ – care about it? And what's worse is that the…hostility that they feel for each other is rubbing off on all of us. Even on you and me, now."'

Skywarp nodded absently at me.

"I noticed, "he said, his voice a bit hoarse. "And…I'm sorry," he apologized again.

"Accepted," I murmured.

"I don't want to feel that way _ever_ again, Thundercracker" he said vehemently, with a shudder that ran through his entire body.

"I know," I assured him. "Just…remember that, all right? Because I think things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get any better…"

Skywarp didn't answer me for a very long moment. He rose from his chair and began to wander aimlessly around the room. For a few minutes, he seemed completely absorbed in inspecting his entire large collection of various weird knickknacks that he'd collected over the years, both from Cybertron and Earth. Eventually, he wandered over to the little porthole in the outer wall, the one that looked out on nothing but the abyssal darkness beyond it, and stared meditatively out of it, as if he was utterly fascinated by the cold and completely featureless blackness outside. I couldn't tell what he was thinking. I had no facial expression to go by since he had turned away from me, and even the bond between us was quiescent; Skywarp wasn't projecting anything to me through it, deliberately hiding his thoughts from me while he sorted and sifted through them. But then, finally, Skywarp turned around to face me, and I saw that his expression was deeply troubled.

"You're right, you know," he whispered, his voice so raspy and quiet at first that I could barely hear him. He hesitated for a moment before repeating himself, louder and perhaps surer of himself this time. "You're right. About everything. Everything you said. I know you're right, but…it's hard. It's hard for me to…to _want_ to believe it. "

"I know," I said softly, understandingly.

"Just…give me time," he added. "I'll get there…eventually."

"I know," I repeated yet again, this time with a little more warmth in my voice. I knew, after all, that he would come to understand and accept all that I'd said, eventually. Skywarp could be air-headed at times, yes, but once given enough time to come to the right conclusion, he usually arrived at it, even if he did so via a more circuitous route than I did.

"So… What do we do now?" Skywarp was asking me, meanwhile. "I mean, what do we do about _them_? Or about all of this…stuff?" Skywarp asked me softly after a moment that we spent staring at each other in silent, mutual understanding. It was a question I was dreading that he'd ask because I had no answer to it. In fact, I wasn't completely sure that an answer existed. So, I was left with no alternative but to answer Skywarp truthfully, as usual.

"Nothing," I said quietly, with a long and sad sigh. "I wish it weren't so, but there's nothing we can do about any of it right now. I just… I think I just needed someone to talk to, is all."

A wan smile crossed Skywarp's face as he replied, "And I was the lucky someone, huh?"

"You always are," I replied, smiling softly back at him. "Thank you." The last few vestiges of my anger with Skywarp, after all, were gone, washed away with understanding. I reflected, as I stood there watching him, smiling at him, that the confrontation we'd had had probably been a good thing. It had certainly brought my feelings, which I'd been self-destructively bottling up inside of myself, out into the open, and it had made Skywarp think. Skywarp could be a slow thinker, yes, but once you got him started, he generally kept at it. I knew that I hadn't entirely convinced him of my position on the matter, but I'd gotten the wheels in his head turning. They were rusty and probably protesting at suddenly having to do their job…but they would do it. Skywarp would not forget what I'd said or what had just happened between us…and neither would I.


	11. Chapter 10

**_"We are in deep transistor parts." _**  
_Skyfire in "Day of the Machines"_

"You're _still_ thinking?"

I had no idea how long I had been sitting on the boulder beneath me. It could have been a few hours or a few hundred years. I had turned off my internal chronometer when Starscream had left me. When he had vowed never to return. When I had decided after he had left that there was no longer any reason to be aware of how much time passed. When I had decided that it was no longer necessary to be aware of anything. I knew that I occasionally went about meaningless tasks, but usually I found myself simply sitting there on that boulder on the beach, like some great statue, a monument to blind and foolish hearts, staring unseeingly out at the ocean in front of me.

I was so absorbed in my own thoughts that I did not hear Starscream's uncharacteristically rough landing on the beach a mere hundred meters from where I sat. I didn't hear him approach me, although he was standing just a few feet away when he made his presence known. It wasn't until he actually spoke to me that I snapped out of my self-induced reverie. His slurred words snapped me instantly back to the here-and-now.

I shook my head, working to bring myself back to full awareness as I turned toward Starscream's distinctive, familiar voice. He stood there, looking dazed and more than a little confused himself. He was swaying back and forth, in fact, as if he was standing on an ocean raft tossed on the waves of a sudden squall. Then I saw why this was so: There was a large dent in the side of his head. Part of his cranial air vent was completely smashed in, and visible cracks spread outward from the center of the impact.

It took me a moment to recover from the shock, not only of seeing him there despite the fact that he had sworn never to return, but also of seeing him in such a state of disrepair. Perhaps his condition should not have surprised me, knowing what I knew of his situation. But still, the surprise was there. Most likely, it always would be, because I really could not imagine how anyone could do something like this to the person to whom they were bonded.

I stood up slowly, both out of weakness on my part and out of a desire not to startle Starscream, and I tentatively reached out one hand toward him, in order to steady him.

"Starscream…"

"Don't _touch_ me!" he snapped, contemptuously trying to slap my hand away but missing by a proverbial mile. His depth perception, some clinical part of my mind noted, was way off. "I don't need you," he slurred.

He was shooting glances wildly around himself, as if he was frantically looking for something. The rapid, jerking motions of his head as he looked around only served to knock him farther off-balance.

"I just came here for energon," he vehemently insisted. "I saw that generator you had last time I was here. Where is it?"

I watched, concerned and not really listening to what Starscream was saying, as he overcompensated for his lack of balance. Not only were his equilibrium circuits severely damaged, but apparently his optics were malfunctioning as well. Not only did he not have much in the way of depth perception, but he had also looked at the generator several times but had not seemed to see it.

These were not good signs at all. I wondered how Starscream had even managed to fly here…

"Starscream, _please _let me at least look at that," I said imploringly, ignoring his general belligerence and pointing urgently at the distressingly deep dent in his head. "You can have the energon, of course, but you will not be able to fly out of here unless you allow me to repair that damage first."

"No!" Starscream spat back at me, shaking his head vehemently from side to side. His wobbling worsened correspondingly…and then he started to list to the right, as if his head was attached to something that was pulling it down. And then, losing his balance completely, he began to fall…

I dashed toward Starscream, catching him before he could fall completely over, and as I cradled him in my arms, he scowled defiantly up at me. He was clearly not pleased with the situation at all, but he apparently accepted that he could do nothing about it at the moment. Now that his face was closer to mine, I noticed that his optics were cloudy, energon streaming into them from wherever it was in his head that the leak was originating. Becoming uncomfortable with my scrutiny, he fidgeted weakly in my arms, but he did not have the strength to break free of my grasp.

"No…" he muttered in weak protest again, pushing against me as best he could. "Energon…s'all I need. Just a…recharge, that's all."

As weak as he already was, Starscream was getting weaker still as his automatic shutdown sequence began to kick in. I knew this was to allow his internal repair systems to begin working…and although the damage did not appear to be life-threatening, I also knew that Starscream needed more medical assistance than his automatic systems could provide. Though limp and unresisting, he was still conscious as I sighed in resignation, stood up, and carried him to the sheltered place off the beach where I stored my meager supply of medical equipment. Starscream kept muttering in delirious, disjointed phrases as I carried him.

"Wasn't my fault," he mumbled deliriously. "I got the damned Negavator, didn't I? Idiotic Autobot. How was _I_ supposed to know? Megatron…wasn't my fault…"

Starscream's voice trailed off as I set him gently down beside the medical supply crate. I didn't know what his words meant, really, had no idea what he was babbling about at all. But I knew that no matter what he had done, he certainly did _not_ deserve this kind of treatment. As I hastily began retrieving the equipment I thought I might need from the nearby crate, Starscream turned his head to look at me. Noticing the movement, I paused in my rummaging through the crate and looked down at him.

"He did it, Skyfire," Starscream said quietly, suddenly and briefly lucid, his half-blind gaze soft and weary, almost resigned. "Megatron…just like you said…left me on a rock ledge…damaged. He aband--"

And then he shut down suddenly, interrupting his own words; his vital systems could no longer spare the energy required to keep him conscious. I knew what he was trying to say, though. Whatever had happened, Megatron had abandoned him. As I digested Starscream's words, I was bombarded with a slew of emotions all at once: sadness, anger, frustration, and concern to name just a few. Then, to my surprise, I felt an underlying sense of wonder, an inexplicable sort of joy.

Starscream had returned to _me_. Of course, he said he had come only for energy…but I knew that was not entirely true, and I was certain that, somewhere deep down, Starscream knew that it wasn't entirely true as well. So it was at that moment that I realized that the bond between Starscream and me would always draw us together, regardless of the many empty years during which I had been in stasis or the amount of contamination from Megatron. I was certain that it had led Starscream here this time; in his condition, I doubted that he was thinking rationally at all. He was operating completely on instinct, and that instinct included relying on for direction and guidance a bond that, in his conscious mind, Starscream refused to believe still existed at all. And in that moment, I finally understood what I needed to do, who I needed to _be_ for Starscream, for now, for however long it took.

But now was not the time to ponder such things. Starscream needed repairs, and he needed them quickly. I sighed and shook my head once again to try to clear it. I was still quite foggy from three weeks – according to my now-activated chronometer – of being in a near-stasis condition, never recharging during that whole stretch of time, but nevertheless, I got to work.

It took nearly five hours to repair only some of the damage to Starscream's head. I had repaired his equilibrium circuits well enough that I believed that he would be able to fly safely again, and I had stopped all the major energon leaks caused by the blunt impact itself. There wasn't much more that I could do with the materials that I had on hand and with the skills that I possessed. Now, Starscream was lying on his back, hooked up to the energon generator, still unconscious as his automatic repair systems worked to restore him to functioning condition. According to the gauge on the generator, it wouldn't be long before he was awake again, but for now… For now, I had a few moments just to look at him, gazing down at his face. He was resting now, recharging more or less peacefully. All of his features were relaxed, peaceful, without fear or pain, and, because of that…Oh, he was so very beautiful. Impulsively, I reached down and gently stroked his cheek with the back of my hand, careful not to disturb him, for I knew that that would ruin the moment.

"Thank you for coming back to me," I whispered to Starscream. I knew that he couldn't yet hear me, but that didn't really matter. I didn't need for him to hear the words. "And thank you for showing me the truth."

I sighed then, as I stood up and went over to the little nook in the cliffside where I stored a small amount of excess energon. After three weeks steeped in a deep depression and then five hours of meticulous repair work, I found that I needed just a little boost.

Sipping at the iridescent pink liquid, I let my mind wander a bit. As excited as I was about Starscream having returned to me, no matter the reason for that return, I had to remind myself for the hundredth time that I could not change the past. This was, indeed, true, However, I knew now that I _could_ influence the future. If Starscream was going to return to me when he felt that he had nowhere else to go, then I would take full advantage of that, to the best of my ability. So as I watched Starscream begin to stir a few dozen yards away, I realized that there _was_ hope, where only a few hours ago I had been completely certain that there was none. The thought energized me, galvanized me. I was not certain how it would happen, or what it would involve, but I suddenly knew, to the very depths of my being, that one day Starscream would have redemption and then…

And then he would be mine again. Mine until the end of time…

I smiled with a sort of hopeful sadness at the thought as I walked toward Starscream, as he awakened slowly and groggily propped himself up on his elbows. I saw him flinch and cower as he heard my footsteps draw near.

"M-Megatron? What happened? W-Why can't I see?" he wanted to know.

I knelt down, laying my hand gently, reassuringly on his arm.

"Starscream, it's—" I began to say

"_You_!" he yelled in response, scooting frantically away from me, sand flying everywhere. Instantly his arm came up, and the laser rifle attached at his shoulders began firing off wild shots in my direction. I was able to dodge them, but Starscream's proximity sensors were back online, and even blind he could tell where I was in at least a general sense. His last shot grazed the top of my shoulder, and I yelled out in frustration and pain.

Enough was _enough. _

Diving toward Starscream, I pushed him back to the ground and grappled with him until I could manage to grab both of his arms and pin them firmly to the ground.

"For Primus's sake, Starscream, STOP SHOOTING!" I shouted in his face hoping that he'd at least recognize my voice and stop his panicked, fearful firing.

Starscream struggled mightily in my grasp, but couldn't free himself. Stilling slowly, he eventually and haughtily demanded, "What have you done to me? What happened to my eyes?"

"I have done _nothing_ to harm you, Starscream. You were already badly damaged when you came here," I informed him, still pinning him beneath me. "Now…if you will promise not to shoot me, I can explain!"

Starscream's still-clouded optics glared up at me and, scowling, he growled threateningly, "Get _off_ of me!"

I began slowly, warily, to release his arms, but he jerked them away from me before I completely let go of them. He did not, however, make any move to fire at me again. Instead, he pushed himself up into a seated position and began almost frantically rubbing at his eyes.

With an exasperated sigh, I sat back on my heels in the sand and stole a quick look at my injured shoulder. It was just a surface wound, but it was burning and tingling uncomfortably. Starscream, meanwhile, was glaring. His glare was unfocused and unseeing, but he had zeroed in on my general location.

"Well, Skyfire? You said you'd explain. So how did I get here? And why can't I see?"

"You don't remember, Starscream?" He just scowled silently, expectantly, at nothing, so I continued, "You came here of your own free will. You were…damaged, and I repaired you. At least, I repaired what I could. I have somewhat limited resources here, as you might imagine," I added wryly.

Starscream looked up at me with unfocused optics.

"I don't remember coming here. Why should I believe you? I could be a prisoner in some Autobot camp or something. And why can't I see?"

For a fleeting moment, I was insulted that Starscream would think me untrustworthy, would believe that I would lie so blatantly to him…but then, after reminding myself of whose influence he had been under for the past several million years, I pushed the offense aside. I could not, however, repress an exasperated sigh.

"I _told_ you that I am no longer with the Autobots," I wearily reminded Starscream. "_You_ came to _me. _You are not a prisoner here. You can leave right now if you want to. Or if you _could_."

Starscream scowled at that, obviously displeased by the fact that, at the moment, he couldn't leave. He still had some recovering to do, some strength to regain, and he knew it.

"Just because you left the Autobots doesn't mean that they aren't watching you, Skyfire," Starscream retorted, pouting mutinously. "I wouldn't put it past them_. And why the hell can't I see?!_"

Under normal circumstances, I might have chuckled at Starscream's frustration. I tended to focus on one stream of thought at a time, and, in the past, I had always seemed to focus on the stream that he had cared about the least. He had always had to ask a question at least twice before I'd remember to answer it because I would have been off analyzing some other tidbit of our conversation. So, indeed, Starscream had been entirely correct when he had said that some things never change…

I took a deep breath and recounted for Starscream his arrival and collapse, explaining that energon had leaked into his optics and that it was currently blocking his vision but assuring him that now that he was up and around, the obstruction should clear up quickly enough.

Frowning, Starscream held a hand out in front of his face and squinted experimentally at it.

"Yes, it's clearing up," he admitted quietly. "I can see my hand." Then he looked in my direction and squinted again. "I can see you too…sort of." And then, gingerly, he ran his fingers along the edges of the dent in his head. "Now how did _this_ happen?" he asked quietly.

I sighed unhappily. If Starscream couldn't remember for himself what had precipitated the damage to his head, I was not particularly keen on the idea of telling him my theory of what had happened to him. Still, I couldn't exactly ignore a direct question, so I told Starscream cautiously that he had deliriously mumbled something about a Negavator and an idiotic Autobot.

"Ah! I remember, yes!" Starscream reacted immediately after I finished speaking, brightening noticeably. "The Negavator! I had it! If it wasn't for that moron Red Alert, it would be in my possession right now and then... Yes, it's coming back to me now… But…but I wasn't damaged by the Autobots…"

Starscream frowned deeply, then, and his brow furrowed as he struggled mightily to recall events that had happened less than a day before. A part of me did not want him to remember those events, whatever they had been. Deep down, I wanted to protect him from the pain those memories would cause. I wanted to gather him up in my arms and shelter him from that and from everything else that might possibly hurt him for the rest of his life. But I also knew that, in general, freedom was only found in the light of the truth. He had shown me that the last time he was here with me. It was painful but necessary that he remember on his own, just as he had to realize for himself that he did not deserve the treatment that he was receiving at Megatron's hands before he could even _begin_ to heal.

"You mentioned that you had been left…abandoned…" I prompted softly.

"…On a rock ledge…damaged…" Starscream finished, equally softly, for me. That was all that he said for a little while, as he frowned at nothing, brow furrowed, as he struggled to remember what had happened to him. His voice became distant and he seemed to look right through me, as if suddenly I wasn't there as he continued, "He's never left me like that before. I did _nothing_ wrong, Skyfire, but he left me. He didn't care that I was damaged… He _doesn't_ care, does he? And then he came back…angry. I was so close to victory and he knew it and I… I…I always make him so _angry_..." He began to tremble then and, his expression haunted , he drew his knees toward his chest and hugged them tightly, protectively. "He always wants so much. He always…_takes_…so much."

My fingers dug deeply into the sand as the anger in me rose to a critical, almost all-consuming level. It took every ounce of self-control that I had to keep the rage from consuming me. That level of fury had to be released somehow, though…and it _was_ released, at least somewhat, when a long, low growl escaped me.

Starscream's head jerked up at the sound, and he looked at me with now-crystal-clear optics. The trembling, frightened person that had been there a second before suddenly vanished as Starscream pulled himself out of his memories and remembered that I was there, sitting not two meters away from him, listening to every word that he was saying. The now very familiar angry, self-assured Decepticon replaced the haunted, trembling person Starscream had been just a moment ago.

"You don't know _anything_!" he spat furiously at me. "So what if I take a few knocks to the head? I've survived much worse, and I've survived it all _withoutyou_. Besides, it will all be worth it when my opportunity to take over comes along. And it _will_ come soon, make no mistake. But until then Megatron _needs_ me. Without me, there's no way that he can succeed. That's why I'm second in command. I'm too valuable for him to leave me permanently."

I was stunned as I watched the transformation before me. It was not a physical transformation, but a mental one. In the span of a single minute, Starscream had gone from one extreme to the other. And now it was almost like he was _coaching_ himself back into the role of the invincible air commander. It seemed like he was trying to convince _himself_ that he was important, that he was needed. This same cycle had probably been repeated so many times that it was now simply second nature to him.

I felt sick inside. Starscream _was_ a prisoner, indeed…but he was the kind of prisoner that no one could ever set free because he willingly shackled _himself _and then carefully hid the key. But I knew now what I had to do. His return to this beach…to me…had solidified my decision. Maybe things would never change. Maybe he would always choose to live this way, with Megatron and all that that entailed. But I knew with every fiber of my being what I had to do. And this time I knew it was right.

"It's late, and I need to get back to Headquarters." Starscream was saying, meanwhile. He made a move to stand up, but I restrained him with one hand on his shoulder nearest to me.

"Wait!" I commanded. After an indignant glare from Starscream, though, I amended, "I mean, before you go, I want to tell you something. Please, Starscream. It will only take a minute."

His gaze flicked momentarily, in displeasure, to my hand that was still resting on his shoulder, and then he leveled a threatening glare at me. I didn't need words to understand his meaning.

"All right, no touching," I said ruefully as I drew my hand back. "But will you give me a moment here? I believe it's important that you know something."

Starscream sighed and sat back down.

"Fine. I suppose listening to whatever it is that you have to say is fair payment for the recharge and the…repairs. But make it quick, Skyfire. Otherwise, they'll start to wonder where I am."

I nodded, quickly marshaled my thoughts, and then said what I needed to say.

"I have thought about what you said the last time you were here," I began. "And you are right. I should not have made such an irresponsible decision and thus risked both our lives to fly in so close to an unknown and possible unstable atmosphere . For that, I am more sorry than you can possibly imagine."

I paused, but Starscream did not respond, only studied me with a cold, expectant expression. So I continued, "I am not an Autobot, nor will I ever be a Decepticon. This is not my war, Starscream, and I cannot be a part of it. I am a scientist and an explorer, and I always will be. I have not changed since the day I was buried in the ice.

But the _universe_ has changed…and so have you. You have chosen the path of a warrior. This, I can accept. You have also chosen to believe that our bond has been terminated. I can _understand_ this, too…but I refuse to accept it. It can't be broken, and _no one_ can terminate it."

"Believe what you want. What's your point?" Starscream's words were callous, but the cold and unfeeling edge had left his voice and his expression had softened somewhat.

"My point, Starscream," I continued patiently, "is that _you_ are all that is left in my life now. And I am recommitting myself now to a promise that I made to you eons ago, the promise that no matter what happens, no matter what you do to me, I will always be here for you. It doesn't matter if you hate me now or if you stay with the Decepticons or…whatever. I do not _care_ about that. _Any_ of that. As long as I still function, my commitment to you and my love _for_ you will always remain."

Starscream looked down and shook his head slowly.

"Pointless," he murmured, and then he was quiet for a moment as he contemplated the sand below him. Then: "It's a waste of time, Skyfire," he continued quietly, his voice tinged with a deep, regretful sorrow…and then he looked back up at me, and his expression instantly shifted from sorrow to suspicion. "Why?" he asked sharply of me. "Why are you saying this? Doing this? Why won't you just _give up_?"

I thought I had just explained my reasoning, but apparently I had not made myself clear…or else Starscream was choosing not to hear what I was saying. But I was starting to feel drained again. I had not had a proper recharge in almost a month and I was feeling the effects now. My powers of reasoning compromised, I decided to just say the first thing that popped into my mind.

With an exasperated sigh I blurted out, "Oh, I don't know, Starscream . Perhaps it is my 'damned hard-headed, stubborn determination' speaking again."

For a moment, Starscream just stared at me. Then, slowly, a smile started to form at one corner of his mouth. His face relaxed and his optics seemed to sparkle. He looked for all the world just like he used to look back on Cybertron. For just those few blessed moments, I saw the old Starscream. I saw _my_ Starscream, as clearly and as vividly as I could see the cloudless blue sky arcing above me. I saw the Starscream who had been at one time a young Seeker with a passion for reckless flying and an insatiable zest for life…and an amazing sense of humor. Megatron had not entirely destroyed him; he was still in there, hiding away somewhere in the ruthless warrior before me. And now I could not help but mirror his smile as we gazed into each other's eyes…and remembered.

But then a shadow seemed to pass over Starscream's face, and his smile quickly changed to an expression of surprise…and then, once again, angry suspicion.

"What are you doing?" he demanded, and he began to scoot backwards, away from me, as he made that demand. "Stop that!"

"I have done nothing. It's already there, and you know it." Leaning down, I stared directly, demandingly, into his eyes and said, "You _know_ this to be true, somewhere inside of you. I know you're in there, my Starscream, and I will not abandon you."

Starscream stopped scooting away from me and, for just a second, he studied me, looking at me in the same penetrating way that one would examine a particularly fascinating museum specimen.

Then, abruptly, he stood up.

"I'm leaving," he announced abruptly, harshly, pitilessly. "And this time, Skyfire, I'm _not_ coming back."

"I will be here, Starscream," I calmly replied, not at all fazed by his harsh words or the intention behind them.

Starscream frowned at me, then turned and took a few steps towards the ocean. He stopped at the water's edge, incoming waves lapping at his feet, and looked back over his shoulder at me.

"I'm _never_ returning, Skyfire," he vehemently insisted. "I mean it! You should just leave. Give up. Go away."

I just shook my head slightly, sadly at Starscream. I knew, now, that I would never do what Starscream was asking of me. I could never just give up on him and go away, as he had so simplistically requested, not now that I had discovered exactly what part I was going to be playing from here on out, for however long it took. I would never give up, and Starscream needed to know that.

"You know where to find me," I said to him gravely, calmly, with a certainty that Starscream certainly recognized as such, for he stared at me thoughtfully for a long while after I had spoken the words, his eyes narrowed searchingly at me as he stared over his shoulder at me. Then, as if he felt a need to break himself out of some dangerous trance, he snorted and shook his head exasperatedly at me. Then, without a word, he transformed and took to the sky.

I watched Starscream fly off, stared after his ever-smaller sleek form until he disappeared entirely from sight. As I watched him fly off, I realized, as I had not quite realized it before, that this was just the beginning of perhaps a long and draining road that was ahead of me, a road that was for now unseen and unknowable. One thing, however, I knew for sure: Starscream would be back. He would need me again, and I suspected that he would return here, instinctively seeking me out perhaps many times before all of this was over, however it ended. Indeed, I knew that it was only a matter of time before I would see Starscream again, and I knew that I needed to begin to make preparations now for those future visits.

I knew that Starscream would likely return to me damaged, and I cynically expected that his damage would become ever more severe as time went on, with each successive visit. I had brought with me only what I believed would allow me, alone, to survive for a perhaps extended period of time in an isolated location; I had not counted on having to provide for someone else, someone perhaps severely damaged, as well. I had a good amount of supplies, enough to last me and, occasionally, Starscream for a little while, but not enough and, quite probably, not everything that I would ever need for the long haul.

It was, I realized, time to make some contingency plans, to make a list of everything that I could conceive of that I might possibly need, to work on preparations as quickly as I could. It would give me a driving and perhaps distracting purpose over the coming few days or weeks. And then…

Then it would be time to call in a favor…


	12. Chapter 11

**_"Well, ain't you a sight for sore eyes!"_**  
_Jazz in "Attack of the Autobots" _

For what had to be the zillionth time, a huge wave reared up and towered menacingly over me, and for the zillionth time I wondered what the hell I thought I was doing out here in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. But then the wave crested, and I wasn't left with a whole lot of time to ponder the latter question while it was threatening to crush and/or drown me and my cargo. It took quite a bit of effort to keep myself upright while at the same time keeping my magnetic hold on the large trailer that was tagging along behind me, pulling me down with its unwieldy weight. All I could say was that it was a damned good thing that magnetic tractor beams were waterproof or else the waves would have broken my hold on the thing long time ago, and then this whole voyage of the damned would have been for nothing…and then I would have been _really_ pissed off. And besides that…Well, I was just amazed that I'd made it this far without sinking to the bottom of the ocean faster than the _Titanic_ had sunk after making first contact with an iceberg.

Of course, Skyfire _had_ to pick the middle of cyclone season to ask this bizarre favor that he'd asked of me. He just had to. Skyfire needed someone to drive clear across the Pacific Ocean to bring him a bunch of stuff, so _naturally_ he'd wait until cyclone season in the South Pacific to do the asking… And of course he'd ask _me_ to be the one to do a bit of impromptu water-skiing. I was such a good sport and all, always willing to do anything for a laugh.

Yeah, right.

So there I was, out in the middle of a Primus-forsaken ocean in the middle of the freakin' cyclone season. It sucked. In particular, the weather I'd encountered during this particular trans-Pacific journey sucked. Mind you, I tend to like Earth and its vast differences – climatological and otherwise – from Cybertron, but this trip was _seriously_ making me start to rethink that whole pro-Earth opinion of mine… Sure, Cybertron was…well, kinda creepy and mostly-dead and seriously banged-up and stuff, but at least it didn't have cyclones…and homicidal palm trees…and crabs…and all the other things that had so far made this trip of mine a true waking nightmare.

Well, OK, so the _first_ day and night of the trip had been just peachy-keen, featuring clear blue skies, warm, pleasant tropical breezes, and a placid blue ocean that wasn't doing its damnedest to kill me. Of course, I realized now that that calm and peace should have been a blaring warning to me, lulling me into a false sense of security. You're familiar with the phrase "the calm before the storm," yes? Well, so am I. That is, I'm intimately familiar with it _now,_ thank you very much, having experienced the phenomenon first-hand. Because after a quite pleasant day and a half of relatively peaceful and even enjoyable travel, there was last night…

Like I said, Skyfire had to pick cyclone season to ask this little favor of me. And I had needed a recharge last night, after about thirty-six straight hours of difficult ocean-surface travel. I had hoped to make the trip out to Indonesia in a single non-stop stretch of driving…or surfing…or whatever you want to call it. But…Well, no such luck, as Optimus Prime might say. Last night, the evening of my second day out, I'd been exhausted, on the brink of energon-depleted shutdown, and I knew that I could go no farther until I recharged a bit. Fortunately – or so I'd thought, at least – I'd happened upon a nice little atoll in the middle of literally nowhere. It looked like the quintessential little "shipwreck" island, complete with warm white sand, blue-green water, sparse, scrubby vegetation, and a single little coconut tree poking up almost exactly in the middle of it. Charming, I'd thought. It was a great, atmospheric place to spend the night, I'd thought.

As it turned out, "atmospheric" was quite an apt description, though not in the way I might have hoped. After I'd devoured one of the half-dozen cubes of energon I'd brought with me, I'd laid there on the beach, contentedly full and safely out of reach of the ocean waves that lapped gently against the shoreline. I was just staring up at the sky as it slowly darkened above me and the stars slowly began to appear. What I didn't realize at the time was that the sky wasn't darkening only because night was approaching. No, it was darkening because the mother of all _cyclones_ was approaching. And sure enough, slowly, over the course of the next half-hour or so, the wind picked up, going from a gentle, pleasant tropical breeze to an angry and decidedly unpleasant gale in the space of maybe a half-hour, and eventually it blew with the force of an out-of-control freight train. Thunder rumbled and lightning struck so close-by that it seemed to be touching down mere inches from my body. And then the rain started, eventually coming down in what were virtually solid – and cold – sheets. And then a coconut bonked me on the head…and then the entire tree fell on top of me, easily broken in half by the wind…and then…

Oh, then there were my "visitors," the little creeps…

But, I survived the night. I don't know _how_ I managed to survive it without getting blown entirely off the island, but I did it somehow. In the end, I even managed to get in about an hour of recharge, once the storm passed after about ten hours of sheer hell. But I had not woken up from that blessed bit of recharge in the best of moods. For one thing, I wasn't fully recharged after only an hour of "sleep," despite the energon I'd consumed. For another thing, my head was _still_ aching where the coconut had bonked me. The damn thing must have been moving as quickly as it would have moved if it had been shot from Megatron's fusion cannon or something. For another thing, there was a _huge_ dent in the roof of my car mode because the whole palm tree had fallen right across my back, pinning me to the sand and nicely crunching the car roof that lived on my back when it wasn't busy being a car roof. So Ratchet was therefore going to murder me when I got home. Joy. For another thing, my little "visitors" had decided to take up residence in my armor joints, wedging themselves into them and eventually inside of my body, and so whenever I moved now, I crushed one of their smelly little crustacean bodies into an even smellier pulp. For yet another thing, Prowl had been frantically screaming at me over the comm when I woke up – In fact, his yelling was the only reason that I'd woken up in the first place – because, due to the storm, I'd missed more than a few of our agreed-upon every-other-hourly check-ins. He'd been alternately cursing at me and illogically promising me that if I was dead he was going to kill me…all the while simultaneously praying to any available deity that I was still alive.

Well, OK, so the Prowl part was so cute that it almost made me melt into a big, quivering blob of goo right there on the beach, but the rest…? The rest was just completely and utterly… "annoying," was much too light of a word, but it gets the point across, I guess. Annoying or not, though, I _still_ had a job to do, no matter how grouchy I was about having to do it. So, after contacting Prowl and reassuring him that I was still alive and then vowing to him that I was going to murder Skyfire in the slowest and most painful way possible when I finally saw him, I started out on my "merry" way again.

And so now there I was, somewhere in the middle of the Primus-forsaken South Pacific, with strains of the song _Bali'hai_ floating annoyingly through my mind every now and then and with a lingering stench of dead crab wafting after me, probably attracting large herds or schools or whatever-you-call-them of sharks. Nevertheless, I was steadily closing in – or so I hoped, at least – on the little uninhabited island that Skyfire had chosen to call home in the wake of his leaving Autobot Headquarters.

And I was still amazed that I was there, that I was doing what I was doing. It seemed kind of…surreal to me. Sure, I'd told Skyfire when he'd left Autobot Headquarters that if he needed anything at all to just give me a yell. I had even given him my private comm frequency so that he could do just that, without having to go through any official Autobot channels. But I hadn't really _expected_ him to use it. It was just one of those offers you make to someone who's going away, you know? But I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised that he'd called. I mean, this _was_ Skyfire that we were talking about here, and lately that boy had become the King of Unexpected.

So Skyfire had called. And he'd informed me that he needed jet parts – Parts for an F-15 jet fighter, specifically. He'd recited to me a long and very bizarre shopping list, and then he'd wondered if there was any way that I could possibly get my hands on all the items on his list and somehow bring them to him in _Indonesia_, of all the Primus-forsaken places he could have picked, as soon as I possibly could. My initial reaction? A flippant, "Sure, let me just dash on down to AutoZone and see what I can dig up for ya!" But then… Then I'd realized that Skyfire was utterly _serious_…

And I'm a pretty smart guy, you know. You don't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out who Skyfire needed those parts _for_. Starscream, of course. The very same guy that, just last week, I'd just spent a nice chunk of my time fighting with on Titan. And he'd seemed perfectly hale and hearty at the time, or at least healthy enough that he was perfectly willing and able to rip my head off. So I couldn't fathom why on Earth Skyfire would need all of the stuff that I was toting along in the converted U-Haul trailer behind me. I mean, _eight_ pairs of wings? What the _hell_?

And it had taken me a few days to decide to help Skyfire, too. To help Skyfire in this case was to help Starscream, and my poor little brain just doesn't generally go there. In fact, I _still_ wasn't deliriously happy about the prospect of indirectly helping Starscream. My experiences on Titan were still painfully fresh in my mind. I could still hear Starscream's screechy, mocking voice in my head, even. But in the end, I convinced myself that _maybe_ if I did as Skyfire wished, he might actually accomplish his goal of reaching Starscream and somehow resurrecting in him the Starscream that he had known so long ago. And if that happened… Well, it'd be one less Decepticon to deal with, at least. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, soooo…

So, off I went. First, I had steal – I mean, _borrow_!_ – _a large U-Haul trailer from the local depot, and I also had to con Trailbreaker into coming along with me on my nefarious adventure so that he could tow the thing back to Headquarters for me, him having that convenient trailer hitch and all. And I had to do all that without telling Trailbreaker exactly _why_ I wanted the stupid thing in the first place, of course. Thank goodness that Trailbreaker, bless his bright little spark, is always up for a devious, covert adventure and that he's smart enough not to ask too many inconvenient questions about it either beforehand or afterward. Then, once that was accomplished, I had to convince Wheeljack to convert the trailer for surface ocean travel with me towing it magnetically, all without telling _him_ anything about where I was going and what I was doing with the thing. Thank goodness that Wheeljack and Trailbreaker seem to be cut from the same uninquisitive-when-prudent cloth… And then…Primus, then I had to wheedle the Air Force into…uh, _lending_ me the required jet parts. And I can't begin to tell you how much I _hate_ the Air Force. And carrying out this entire messy scheme only reinforced that dislike.

In fact, the more I thought about it now, the crazier the whole thing seemed. And so, when another huge wave reared up in front of me again, my first impulse was to just turn around and go home. The whole scheme here was crazy…and I was seriously putting myself out for a guy that I hated. How stupid was that? But then…Then I realized that I couldn't do that, that I couldn't just leave Skyfire hanging. I'd made a promise to him, however unwise that had been at the time, and I couldn't in good conscience back down from it. Still, the temptation was there, and it remained there in the back of my mind, taunting me more loudly with every hard-won meter that I traveled…

Which is why it was probably a very good thing that, only a couple hours of difficult forward progress later, Skyfire's island finally came into view in front of me. It just suddenly appeared on the horizon as if wandering invisible aliens had suddenly decided to drop it right there in front of me. And I could, I thought, just make out Skyfire on the beach, too, standing there with his arms folded across his chest, just staring out over the ocean, motionless. Perhaps he was looking for me. Or perhaps he was looking for…er, someone else… But, putting that thought aside, I instead concentrated on speeding up and getting to that damned island as quickly as possible. I was longing to be on _terra firma_ once again… Of course, as with just about everything else concerning this trip of mine, getting to that blessed spot of dry land was easier said than done. Navigating through occasionally large breakers while still hauling the trailer behind me was no easy feat. But, just when I thought I was about to be sucked under for good, a wave unceremoniously deposited me and my cargo in an undignified heap on the sandy white beach. Skyfire, who'd no doubt been avidly watching my progress toward shore, was there to meet me.

Without a word to Skyfire, I disengaged the magnetic tractor beam that still yoked me to the U-Haul, transformed, and proceeded to yank the U-Haul away from the waves breaking on the shoreline. Skyfire just stared at me for a moment, no doubt reading my unhappy vibes and not knowing quite what to do about them. Belatedly, he moved to help me, though, and together we pushed and shoved the trailer to safer, dry ground. It was only when we had completed that task that Skyfire decided to speak to me.

"Thank you for coming, Jazz," he said with all sorts of innocent, unsuspecting sincerity as he peered guilelessly across the roof of the U-Haul at me.

In reply, I just grumbled something rather impolite under my breath, went around to the back of the U-Haul, and hauled open the tailgate with quite a bit more force than was really necessary, continuing to mutter various complaints and curses under my breath as I did so. Skyfire, of course, had obviously picked up on my surly mood, and he no doubt knew that it was a strange one for me. Still, he foolishly followed me part of the way around the trailer and watched me curiously as I began to unload it. For my part, I did my best not to aim glares of death in Skyfire's general direction, instead attempting to lose myself in the mundane and repetitive task of unloading the trailer. But then…Then Skyfire unwisely chose to break the silence between us again.

"Is something wrong, Jazz?" Skyfire asked of me in that quiet, sincere, supremely calm, and compassionately-concerned tone of voice that was so very characteristic of him.

Of course, it was exactly the _wrong_ question to ask of me, and it was exactly the wrong tone of voice to ask it in. Had Skyfire asked _any_ question other than that one, I _might_ have gotten through the day without a major rant. But, unfortunately, he chose to ask that particular question of me. And he was so damned…innocently concerned when he asked it, too.

Poor guy…

"Wrong?" I repeated quietly as I dropped a dull grey F-15 wing, which landed with a correspondingly dull thud on the sand in front of me. Of course, my voice became louder and angrier as I ranted on…and on… "What on Earth could _possibly_ be wrong, Skyfire? I mean, I just drove like six thousand miles across an ocean, dragging behind me a very heavy and unstable trailer full of parts meant for a guy that I _hate_! Hell, Skyfire, I do that all the time! I love it! I _live_ for it, even! And then there was the weather. Primus, it was beautiful. If you're a _duck_, that is. Wind. Rain. Waves. Lots of really _big_ waves that seemed determined to suck me and your precious parts down to the bottom of the ocean and keep us down there for the rest of eternity. I swear to Primus that it'll take me a decade to get all the salt out of my moving parts. Not to mention the crabs. Oh, did I tell you about the crabs? No? Well, let me just tell you about the crabs, then, Skyfire. They apparently don't like cyclones, you see. They apparently come out of the ocean _en masse_ when one of them happens by. And apparently, I crashed for the night on one of their absolute _favorite_ cyclone hangouts, and they mistook me for a nice, dry, comfy shelter from the big bad storm. So now I've got little bits of mangled crustacean in places I don't even want to _think_ about. So I ask you, Skyfire, what the hell could _possibly_ be wrong?! What reason could I _possibly_ have to be in a _very bad mood_?!"

By the time I ended the rant, I was toe-to-toe with Skyfire, glaring daggers up at him as if I thought that I might intimidate him despite the fact that he was half again as tall as me. Skyfire, for his part, at least had the grace to flinch as I finished my rant. And then he looked down at me for a very long moment. Just looked at me. The expression on his face was a curious mix of remorse and gratitude, and it did not waver or wander from my face until, silently, he stepped politely around me. He knelt by the open back end of the trailer and pulled an armload of cargo out of it before standing up again. Hugging the jet parts to his chest as if they were a security blanket, Skyfire looked down at me with that odd expression on his face again.

"I am very grateful," Skyfire said solemnly, after looking at me that way for so long that I had to fight the urge to nervously fidget in response to his gaze, "that you were willing to do this for me, Jazz. But I also apologize for having to ask you to do it. I…just didn't know what else to do. I was simply not prepared for…" His voice trailed off and he stared out over the ocean for a few long moments before he finally finished his thought. "I was not prepared for…all that has happened since I left the Autobots," he said quietly, his voice barely audible above the crashing waves behind us.

It was then that I noticed just how…haggard Skyfire looked. I had figured that he'd be in less-than-pristine condition, after months spent away from Autobot Headquarters and associated luxuries like recharge berths and a fully-equipped medbay…but it wasn't just his living conditions, I suspected, that had caused his condition. No, Skyfire looked…haunted. Depressed. Drained of both energy and spirit. It vaguely occurred to me that my grouchy mood probably wasn't helping matters and then, naturally, guilt kicked in, which effectively quashed my anger. Briefly, I reflected that I really wasn't good at maintaining a pique for very long and wondered whether or not that was a good quality. Whatever the case, though, I found that I suddenly needed to find out what was eating away at Skyfire. I picked the most likely cause that occurred to me.

"Things not going so great with Starscream?" I asked quietly, suddenly folding my legs underneath myself and plopping down on the sand. My legs, after all, weren't all that enthusiastic about having to support my weight after the long and completely draining voyage I'd just completed.

Skyfire looked down at me as I sat there, with an expression on his face that I couldn't readily identify except to say that he looked like he'd lost his last friend in the universe. Unceremoniously, he, too, plopped himself down on the sand an arm's length away from me, heaving a long and weary sigh as he did so.

"Not really, no," he murmured, his voice sounding…distant, as if his body and his mind were millions of miles apart from each other. And, after a long moment spent staring at the stylized racehorse emblazoned on the side of the U-Haul although I sensed that he wasn't seeing the trailer at all, Skyfire elaborated, "Though probably not in the way that you're thinking…"

For a moment, I didn't respond to that. I just let Skyfire's voice trail off uncertainly as I pushed myself over onto my hands and knees with a grunt of effort, crawled toward the U-Haul, and pulled out two of the energon cubes that were stashed in there. Backing to my former spot, I sat back on my heels and tossed one of the cubes to Skyfire. He caught it and then looked at it as if he had no clue what he was supposed to do with it. He just sat there staring at it, contemplating its swirling, iridescent contents. I waited for him to say something else, to explain what he meant, but it seemed that explanations weren't forthcoming. Which, of course, meant that I had to do the talking. Again.

"Y'know what's really eating at me about all this?" I said, waving vaguely at the trailer in front of us before taking a long sip from the energon cube I held. Skyfire aimed a brief curious glance in my direction, but then lowered his gaze back to the energon cube he held, so I continued, "What's really eating me is that I brought you stuff to fix damage that _I_ probably did to Starscream…"

At that, Skyfire jerked his head up, away from his contemplation of the energon cube, and gave me a briefly startled look.

"How so?" he asked mildly.

I heaved a long, weary sigh, drained the energon cube, tossed it aside, and then leaned back casually on my elbows.

"He and I just spent some quality time together up on Titan," I explained, jerking my chin up at the sky above us. "We…weren't exactly friendly with each other, if ya know what I mean."

"I see," Skyfire replied, quirking a sadly-amused half-smile at me. He took a moment to finally take a sip out of his own cube before continuing. "But I think you're misunderstanding something, Jazz. This," he said, gesturing expansively at the collection of various jet parts that were in the trailer as well as scattered haphazardly around us, "is not meant to repair battle damage. I would not have asked that of you or of any other Autobot."

Frowning, and without thinking all that much about what I was about to say, I asked, "But…What other kind of damage is there, Skyfire?"

And for a long time, Skyfire said nothing to me in reply to that. He just looked at me, his lips compressed into a tight, thoughtful, and slightly down-turned line. I gathered that he was trying to decide whether or not to tell me something, since it was almost the same look that he'd given me the last time I'd had a face-to-face discussion with him, when he'd dropped the bombshell on me that he and Starscream were bondmates. I suspected that he was now debating whether or not to tell me something equally paradigm-shaking, and I was trying to brace myself for the impact of whatever it was that he was about to tell me. I'd thought that nothing could be freakier than the fact that someone like Skyfire and someone like Starscream were bondmates…but apparently this whatever-it-was was equally difficult for Skyfire to confess. In fact, it wasn't until after Skyfire had risen to his feet, paced around the U-Haul a couple of times, and then sat himself down in precisely the same spot he'd vacated in the first place that he finally decided to tell me just what was on his mind.

And when he did, I was forced to conclude that sometimes I really should just keep my big mouth shut… Because what Skyfire told me, of course, was that Starscream and Megatron were also bondmates, and that was news that thoroughly floored me. I mean, I really couldn't fathom such a connection. If nothing else, all I'd ever seen the two of them do was trade insults and, occasionally, physical blows with each other. That wasn't exactly normal behavior for a pair of bondmates. I mean, I _teased_ Prowl, sure. I teased him often and sometimes mercilessly, even. But there was a huge difference between that and what I'd seen Starscream and Megatron do and say to one another… All I knew was that I was glad I hadn't been trying to swallow some energon when Skyfire had told me that little tidbit of gossip or else it would have ended up spewed all over the place…

"Bondmates?" I finally echoed weakly as I scrabbled to control the reactions careening around in my mind. I wanted to be sure, after all, that I'd heard Skyfire right, that the ever-strengthening stench of dead, decaying crab wasn't making me hallucinate or something.

"Yes," Skyfire said succinctly, offering no further details. Which was probably a good thing because I was quite certain that my poor brain wasn't up to absorbing any more details at that moment. That didn't, of course, stop me from asking more questions, however. Asking questions even though I didn't want to hear the answers to them was a dubious habit of mine, after all…

"So…if Starscream and Megatron are bonded, does…does that mean that…?" I stammered. "Does that mean that _you_ and Megatron are…?"

My voice trailed off, the thought too horrible to complete. Skyfire, thankfully, shook his head vigorously in response.

"No," he emphatically assured me. "I don't know how he's managed it, but apparently, Starscream has blocked out the existence of the bond between him and me, and he's kept all knowledge of it away from Megatron for all of these years. I don't think that he wishes to think about it, and of course I know that he doesn't want Megatron to know about it. So, it appears that he's been able to build some kind of barrier around it. Somehow. The result appears to be that I am in no way connected to Megatron, even though he and Starscream are most certainly connected to each other."

"Well, thank Primus," I said. "I mean, being stuck with Megatron would…suck." It wasn't the best, most accurately descriptive word to use, I was sure, but it was the best word I could think of on the fly. Skyfire, for his part, looked at me expressionlessly for a long moment before quirking that enigmatic half-smile of his at me again.

"Indeed," he said solemnly. "'Suck' would be a good word, as I understand its usage."

I chuckled ruefully at that and then retreated into silence for a while, thinking, trying to understand the incomprehensible without much success.

"I don't get it," I announced. Skyfire, who'd taken to staring out over the ocean while I had been thinking, jerked his gaze back toward me as I elaborated, "I mean, I don't understand what he…what they…_why_ they…_how_ they could be…"

"How they could be a pair?" Skyfire easily finished for me when the thoughts and words floundered around in my brain, refusing to be processed and expressed. He was smiling slightly, amused by my lack of coherence.

"Yeah," I said weakly. "Yeah…that."

The smile draining from his face, Skyfire sighed and was silent for a good long time. During that time, I fidgeted, sitting upright and then slouching back down onto my elbows several times before Skyfire finally put what he wanted to say into words.

"The Starscream that you know now, Jazz, is…a shadow of the Starscream I knew before the war," Skyfire eventually said, his voice level and calm, as if he was telling me about someone who had no particular connection to himself. "You don't understand him and what he does or does not do because you don't really know him. Not the real individual that he is, at least. I know it will be hard for you to believe, but when I knew him, before the war, Starscream was not a warrior bent on conquest, nor would he ever have thought to be that. He was simply one of our research station's brightest intellects, and his only interest at the time was imagining and creating technology that would improve space exploration, make it easier, safer, and more…convenient. And he was sharp and witty and…compassionate. He wouldn't, as the humans might say, have hurt a fly."

I was, of course, skeptical. I didn't think of it as being particularly unfair of me because any Autobot who'd known Starscream over the past few million years or so would have been skeptical, too. Even downright disbelieving, in fact. For my part, I'd never seen anything like what Skyfire was describing in Starscream, and I found that it was hard to argue with the evidence of my own senses.

"You're right," I said firmly, crossing my arms over my chest as I sat doubtfully regarding Skyfire. "That _is _hard to believe."

Skyfire gave me another of those long, indecipherable looks before he reiterated firmly, his tone of voice tinged now with a slight hint of impatient irritation, "As I _said_, that is because who and what Starscream was back when I knew him is quite different than who and what he is now. People _do_ change with time, you know, Jazz."

I gave Skyfire a reproving look and retorted, more harshly and accusingly than I might have liked, "I _know_ that, Skyfire. I'm not stupid. But you'll forgive me for not automatically thinking the best of a guy who's been trying to kill me and mine for the better part of ten million years now."

For a moment, just after those words flew out of my mouth without thinking on my part, Skyfire just took a deep, calming breath. His very first impulse, I'd noticed, had been to open his mouth and, no doubt, he had thought to counter my retort with a stinging one of his own. But he'd caught himself at the last minute, and he'd apparently decided to take a moment to calm himself before he answered me.

"My apologies, Jazz," he eventually said, his voice level and unemotional, after opening his eyes. "It is…difficult for me to discuss Starscream objectively with anyone, particularly an Autobot, particularly after a year spent listening to the Autobots denigrate him on a daily basis."

I had been one of the most vocal of those denigrators, too. I hadn't really thought about it until that moment, when Skyfire mentioned it, and an interesting mix of emotions flitted through my mind. My feelings toward Starscream hadn't really changed, and I didn't feel like they _needed_ to change, either. My instinctive dislike of him, to my mind, was quite justified. Even so, I _did_ still feel a bit of remorse, for Skyfire's sake, over some of the things I'd said about Starscream in Skyfire's presence. I imagined for a moment what it had to have been like to be in his place, hearing all kinds of nastiness day in and day out, and I rather sheepishly realized that I probably wouldn't have taken that sort of thing half as well as Skyfire had taken it for over a year… So I realized, rather unwillingly, that an apology of my own was in order.

"No, _my_ apologies, Skyfire," I said, swallowing my pride. "That was…insensitive of me. I mean, what I just said was insensitive…and many of the things I probably said before I knew about you and Starscream were insensitive, too. I apologize."

Skyfire shrugged his massive shoulders dismissively.

"You didn't know, Jazz," he said calmly. "None of you knew. I could hardly expect you to be sensitive toward a situation about which you knew nothing. What's done is done. Now we must simply…deal with the present."

"Oh, the horror," I said lightly. The conversation was turning serious, after all. I felt a need to make it more…comfortable. "So…go on," I prompted.

"Go on," Skyfire said with a decisive nod. He paused, deliberated for a moment, and then asked, "What was I saying?"

"You were saying," I answered around a wide, amused grin, "that Starscream wouldn't have hurt a fly back when you knew him."

"Oh yes!" Skyfire responded before lapsing into a thoughtful silence for a few moments. After gathering his thoughts, he continued, "Back then, Starscream couldn't have cared less about being the leader or ruler of _anything._ He had always been a bit of a social outcast amongst his peers, true, but it wasn't because he went into crazy screaming fits about being the ruler of the universe or whatever, as he does now, from what I've heard. That sort of mentality, that…fixation with power and control is something that he learned, I think, from an outside source. It's like someone has drilled it into him, forcing a change in his thoughts and behavior and his entire outlook on…well, everything."

"Megatron," I guessed. It was, after all, a logical conclusion, given that Starscream was bonded to a guy who esteemed power and control above everything else. And, to him, it was probably fun to twist wide-eyed, trusting innocents around his finger, turning them into little idolizing puppets. It was admittedly hard to imagine Starscream as a wide-eyed innocent…but it was also true that _everyone_ was innocent at some point in his life.

"Mm-hmm," Skyfire was agreeing, meanwhile. "At least, that's the only conclusion that I can draw from the little I've been able to glean from Starscream. It seems that Megatron uses the bond between him and Starscream to get what _he_ needs from Starscream, that he evokes the darker, more powerful emotions in Starscream and then feeds off of them. As if they somehow strengthen him. Empower him."

"Like a vampire," I muttered disgustedly. I still wasn't feeling much pity for Starscream, but I had to acknowledge that his wasn't the best place to be. If Skyfire had things figured correctly, of course. I still wasn't sure that he had, though…

"A…what?" Skyfire was asking meanwhile, blinking at me in blank confusion, obviously not familiar with the concept of vampires.

"Earth legend, Skyfire," I explained with a shrug. "A vampire is a dead creature who maintains the appearance of life by sucking the blood out of people who actually _are_ alive."

For a moment, Skyfire just blinked at me again before commenting, "Humans certainly do have…er, colorful legends, but the reference would seem quite apt, regardless… It's still worse than that, though. It seems that over the years that need of Megatron's has required him to subject Starscream to increasingly severe beatings, in order to evoke those stronger emotions in him that Megatron seems to crave. I suppose that Starscream slowly became used to Megatron's older, less damaging, techniques, so periodically he has had to come up with new ones. Hence, the physical damage that Starscream suffers now, and that I am now occasionally called upon to repair. Hence, my need for these components that you've brought here. The damage that I repair is that which Megatron does to Starscream, not that which any Autobot does to him. The differences are quite distinct and, as I said, I would not ask you to help me to…"

Skyfire's voice trailed off when he happened to look over at me during his explanation. My expression, I imagine, was speaking volumes.

"What?" he asked curiously of me.

"You're talking," I said, when I finally found my voice, "about torture."

My voice squeaked as I practically choked on the words. What Skyfire was suggesting was unheard of on Cybertron. The general idea of sadism, even of torture, wasn't entirely unknown. One could easily say that Megatron himself enjoyed seeing others suffering, and in times of desperation, of war, some might even feel that torturing a captive for information was justified. The needs of the many weighed against the needs of one hostile prisoner often caused otherwise well-meaning folks to take a stroll on the dark side. But to put your _bondmate_ in pain meant, plain and simple, that you would also be putting _yourself_ in pain. I couldn't for the life of me understand why anyone would want to – much less _need_ to – do that… That was what had me gaping at Skyfire like a landed fish.

Skyfire, meanwhile, was merely nodding calmly at me. Having been exposed for a while now to the whole…thing, he'd apparently had the time to become used to the idea. Which, when I thought about it, was a bit scary. No one should just get used to the idea of other people being tortured. Even if those "other people" included Starscream. Skyfire, though, seemed to take it all in stride. Outwardly, at least. His legs were crossed, his elbows were resting on his knees, and his chin was resting on top of his interlaced fingers. He was just sitting there, talking to me calmly but not expressionlessly.

Primus only knew what was eating away at Skyfire _beneath_ that calm exterior of his, though…

"I suspect," Skyfire was saying, meanwhile, as if he was just offering up a hypothetical theory that had no emotional weight whatsoever, "that they have a one-way bond that Megatron alone controls. He can take whatever he wants from Starscream, perhaps even filtering out any…unpleasantness he might feel, but he is not required to give anything in return. I have no idea how such a thing is possible, but I do know that all Starscream gets from their…encounters…is pain. Confusion. Even insanity."

"Yeah, he'd have to be crazy to put up with that crap," I muttered, not quite far enough under my breath. I shot a guilty look at Skyfire as I realized that I'd said the words a bit too loudly. Skyfire stiffened at my words, but then relaxed again half a breath later. Deliberately. As if he wanted to take issue with me but cooler thoughts had overruled the impulse and forced his body into submission.

"Perhaps," Skyfire eventually agreed. His voice was a bit on the chilly side, though, and he was looking at me through eyes that were narrowed in equal measures of thoughtfulness and irritation. "Then again," he added, "I am certain that there are many things that you do not understand about the situation, Jazz. Just as there are many things that _I_ do not yet understand about it, either."

"Well, whether I understand it all or not, Skyfire," I pointed out, "it's _still_ damned crazy."

"It's easy for you to believe that, I know," Skyfire answered noncommittally, shrugging at me almost…dismissively. I didn't know quite how to respond to that. Was he agreeing with me or not? And should I care? Whatever the case, I couldn't think of anything to say. I was getting good at speechlessness, apparently. Not that that was a good thing…

"So…" I finally ventured after a long moment of uncomfortable silence between us. I was still trying to wrap my mind around all that Skyfire had told me, after all. "Starscream comes here after these uh…encounters with Megatron?" When Skyfire only nodded wordlessly, I further guessed, "And then you thoughtfully fix up all of his…injuries, which is why you need all this stuff I brought?" After another wordless nod, I concluded, "But then after _all_ that, he still runs off back to Megatron…so that he can be beaten up all over again?"

Skyfire winced at that. It was a wince so small it was almost imperceptible…but I noticed it. And I sympathized with him, too. I couldn't imagine what it was like to be living his life right at the moment. And for a moment, as Skyfire collected his thoughts, I thought about what I would do if I ever found myself in a situation similar to Skyfire's, if I had been separated from Prowl for millions of years, only to return and find him caught up in some insane, self-destructive situation. I wondered what I would do… Would I give up everything, as Skyfire had done, to try to help Prowl, to bring him back to sanity, back to _me_? Or would I abandon him to the path that he had freely chosen to follow? After a few minutes spent in honest contemplation of those questions, it disturbed me greatly that I didn't really know what I'd do. Self-sacrifice wasn't in my basic nature, that much I knew. And I wasn't proud of that.

"It's a little more complicated than that," Skyfire was answering, meanwhile, "but yes, to date he has left and gone back to Decepticon Headquarters every time, once I have repaired him sufficiently."

"That's crazy!" I asserted again.

"Perhaps," Skyfire agreed, nodding thoughtfully. "It is quite possible that Starscream is crazy. It would be logical to assume that he is crazy, given what he has endured over the last ten million years and that he continues to tolerate it. But I don't believe he's beyond help. Yet."

"But I don't get it!" I plaintively confessed. "Why doesn't Starscream want to stay with _you_? You obviously love him because you've given up _everything_ for him. And you're not going to beat him up or nothin'. So why the hell does he go back to Megatron? If he has the ability to leave in the first place, why the hell can't he just stay away?"

For a long time, Skyfire just looked at me, his expression one of uncomprehending sorrow.

"I wish that I knew the answer to that question, Jazz. It is one that I ask myself all the time. I wish that I could understand Starscream as he is now, but… I don't." Sighing sadly, staring out over the ocean, he added, "So much time has gone by. So much has changed. I didn't really understand how much until just recently. But I _try_, Jazz, I try so hard to talk to him, asking him to help me understand what's going through his mind. But as well as I used to know him, as _completely_ as I used to know him, there are entire sections of his being that are closed to me now. Barricaded. I believe that if I could just _reach_ those closed-off parts, even for just a few moments, then…then I might understand. And if I understood, then I _know_ that I could help him. As it is…" His voice trailed off sadly, and he gestured dismally at the parts scattered around us. "As it is," he finished desolately, miserably, "this is all that I have. This is all that has been left to me. This…this is my life."

Skyfire looked at me piercingly after that, seeking…something. A reaction, maybe. Help, maybe.

I didn't know what to say to him. What comfort could _I_ offer? I had no idea where to begin. I couldn't relate to him at the moment. I couldn't comprehend what he was going through, mostly because I didn't want to. My mind couldn't, _wouldn't_, go there. At all. Mostly because his situation…Starscream's situation…it was all horrible, empty, desperate, and all absolutely repulsive to any sane person.

More than that, though, I was deeply disturbed. The fact that Megatron and Starscream were bonded was disturbing. The nature of their relationship was even more disturbing. And, for some reason, Skyfire's steadfast, devoted support of Starscream, his desire to help him and to save him no matter the personal cost, was disturbing, too. It made me painfully realize that _I_ was perhaps not capable of that kind of unswerving devotion and loyalty. Worse than that, his obvious loyalty and devotion prompted me to peer hesitantly into the darker corners of my own psyche, the ones that I liked to pretend couldn't possibly exist because I was an Exceedingly Good Guy. And I saw that, deep down, Exceedingly Good Guy Jazz couldn't understand how or why anyone would willingly be that unselfish. And I didn't like that about myself. Not at all. So what did I do? Well, Noble And Exceedingly Good Guy Jazz tried to deflect that irritation with himself by pawning it off on poor Skyfire.

"So…you're just gonna _sit_ here, then," I said rather indignantly, if not accusingly, "and wait for him. And then you're gonna fix him up. And then you're gonna calmly watch him leave only to have him return all bashed up again someday somewhere down the road. Or else you'll never see him again at all. How long are you going to _let_ that be your life?"

To that question, Skyfire's answer was immediate, his conviction obviously rock-solid.

"As long as it takes," he vowed calmly, looking me straight in the eye, his voice unwavering, his expression still sorrowful but also quite determined. When I just stared back at him dubiously, he elaborated, "There are many things I don't understand, Jazz, but _one_ thing, at least, is eminently clear to me. And that is that I _need_ to be here for Starscream, and that I _will_ be here for him…no matter what happens and no matter what he does or says or…anything. Would you do any less for Prowl?"

I had to force myself not to flinch at that, quite taken aback that Skyfire had seen fit to ask that question of me in the first place, as if he could read my mind… Talk about your bull's-eyes… In the end, though, it didn't matter what my reaction to Skyfire's words was because he continued to speak anyway, completely heedless of my startlement.

"I have simply found," he was saying softly, "that I cannot lead a productive life without Starscream. I _need_ him, perhaps just as much as he needs me right now. Perhaps even more so. I simply need to be involved in his life, Jazz. I need to be looking after him, even if that only involves, for now, repairing his damage so that he can live another day. To be doing anything else right now…particularly pretending that he is my enemy…would drive me insane."

"But…what if he never comes back?" I asked quietly. "What if you fix him all up one day and he goes on his way and then you never see him again? Or worse, what if one day he brings along ol' Megs and the gang?"

Skyfire shrugged dismissively.

"It doesn't matter," he answered firmly. "None of that matters to me, Jazz. What matters is that I made a promise to Starscream eons ago that I would never leave him, no matter what happened to us. I have broken that promise twice already, once when I was lost in the ice storm here on Earth so long ago, and then again when I left the Decepticons and joined the Autobots. But I am _determined_ to keep that promise from now on, even if it costs me my own life. I owe it to him, Jazz. You don't understand, I know, but you don't have to. _I_ understand…and I will keep that promise for the rest of my days, however many days that might be. That's what I've vowed, both to myself _and_ to Starscream."

The more I listened to Skyfire, the more chastened I felt. The _guiltier_ I felt, actually. What Skyfire was saying, I knew, was what being bonded _truly_ meant. It meant that you gave up yourself for the "combined" person that both of you became. But I was still hanging on to _me_. I was still clinging to my own selfish interests, my own idea of what I should be doing with my life, as if my choices still only affected me. I still wanted to do my own thing. Like, for instance, I'd agreed to do as Skyfire asked without consulting Prowl, without even _thinking_ of consulting him, really. Why? Because I had _wanted_ to do it. Because some weird part of me thought it would be fun to steal a U-Haul and con the Air Force out of jet parts and then haul them across the ocean to Indonesia. And I wanted to have fun. I didn't care, really, what anyone else thought about it. Most damningly, I didn't even think about how _Prowl_ would feel about it, even though I knew I _should_ be thinking about him at least as much as I thought about myself. But it wasn't that way. It was all me, me, me. I'd always been all about me.

Skyfire, on the other hand, had freely given up everything that he was and everything that he could have been in the future as an Autobot in order to live a hard, draining existence alone on a deserted island, surviving on desperate hope as he waited for his bondmate to come to his senses and return to him. I didn't know that I could do that. I strongly suspected that I would simply have given up and moved on. Some friend – much less mate! – I was, huh?

But I resolved, then and there, to be a better one. I was inspired, you might say, even though that inspiration was completely against my will. I didn't know if I could really follow through with my resolution…but I knew that I could at least give it the old college try.

And there was one other thing that I knew for certain that I _could_ do. If I couldn't face up to my own inadequacies as a bondmate, then I could at least try to make Skyfire's life a little more bearable. And I could continue to do my little part to bring him and Starscream back together, however indirectly. And I knew that I could do it without complaint and without drama, too. It would mean that I'd have to sacrifice some free time, sure. It probably meant that in the coming months or even years I'd have to do lots of things that I didn't really want to do…but in the grand scheme of things, comparing my life to Skyfire's, I realized that that was the very _least_ that I could do.

"Promises," I murmured ruefully to myself, out of the blue. Skyfire fired a questioning glance in my direction, but I talked over him, saying, "Y'know, Skyfire, I admire you." Skyfire's expression changed to a startled one as I added, "No, really! I do! I mean, I listen to you and…and I can't imagine going through what you're going through. I don't think I could do it. Not even for Prowl, and that… Well, that's a real hard admission for me to make."

Skyfire continued to just stare at me, his expression a bit perplexed, but he didn't say anything. He was obviously waiting for me to continue, so…I continued

"Look, when you asked me to do this favor for you, I really wasn't thrilled about it. I knew who you needed these parts for, and I didn't want to help him because of what _I'd_ been through with him recently. And it was a rough trip out here, what with the cyclone and all. So I had a really bad attitude about the whole thing. Poor little Jazz, y'know? But now I listen to you, to what you're saying and…and _nothing_ in my life compares, Skyfire. My _worst_ day would probably be better than your best one has been out here. And my very worst day ever would probably seem like heaven compared to Starscream's best one, from what you've said, even though I can't believe I'm sitting here saying that. But anyway… Suddenly, I feel very, very lucky to have the life that I have."

Skyfire just blinked at me, still perplexed. No doubt, he was wondering what I was trying to say. Hell, _I_ was trying to figure out what I was trying to say… It was only after a long moment spent staring at me that Skyfire finally spoke up.

"You _are_ lucky, Jazz," he asserted. And then he added apologetically, "But I'm still very sorry that I had to ask this of you. I…had nowhere else to turn. I would never have asked you other—"

"No, no, I think you're misunderstanding me, Skyfire," I interrupted, waving off his words. "What I want to say…I think…is that this was…nothing. Like, totally _nothing_. Bringing all of this stuff was no big deal, despite my bitching and moaning about it. Really, this was the very _least_ I could do. And now I'm going to make a promise to you."

"A promise," Skyfire repeated questioningly.

"A promise," I confirmed. "Here it is: I want you to keep in touch with me regularly, and I want you to tell me _exactly_ what you need. Hell, even just what you _want_. And then, if it's remotely in my power to bring it to you, I _will_ bring it to you as quickly as I possibly can. Anything you need or want or whatever, you tell me and I'll find it somehow and bring it here."

"Jazz…Really, I appreciate the thought, but it's really not necessary to—"

"Oh, I think it _is_ necessary, Skyfire," I contradicted. "In fact, I think it's _very_ necessary. And I'll keep that promise, Skyfire."

Skyfire just blinked at me again, was silent for what seemed like an hour while I waited impatiently for him to say something, and then finally said, "Well, in that case, I appreciate it, Jazz. That…will help. It will help a lot, actually. I accept your offer with my deepest thanks. And I'm sure that, if he could, Starscream would thank you, too."

"Oh riiiiiiiight," I spluttered after a moment spent laughing out loud. "He'd be kissing my feet, I bet." Skyfire just smiled almost wistfully at me. Quietly, seriously, I added, "I…want to do what I can, s'all." And then I shrugged diffidently, suddenly embarrassed by my general sappiness.

"Believe me, Jazz," Skyfire replied sincerely, "you're doing more than you could possibly know."

"Well…good," I said with a decisive nod, feeling better than I had in the past couple of days…even though I'd just promised Skyfire that I'd make more of these mind-numbing twelve thousand mile round trips to the South Pacific. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Skyfire, I'm going to have a nap. It's been a long couple of days, and I've got a looooong trip back ahead of me."

"Oh, not so long, I don't think," Skyfire countered with a sudden chuckle.

Besides wondering why in the world he was laughing at me, I wondered where Skyfire got off saying something like that.

"Oh yeah?" I responded indignantly. "Well, _you_ try it, then, Skyfire."

The expression on Skyfire's face was, for a moment, puzzled. And then he laughed again, sounding in much better spirits than he'd been in the whole time I'd been with him.

"No, no," Skyfire replied, "now _you're_ misunderstanding _me_. I just meant that I'll fly you back, Jazz. It'll save you a trip, at least."

I stared at Skyfire for a long moment after he said that

"But isn't that a little…oh, I don't know…dangerous, maybe?"

"Perhaps," Skyfire allowed with a one-shouldered shrug. "But in this case I think it's worth it."

"But what if Starscream comes while you're gone?"

"I won't be gone _that_ long, Jazz."

"But what if—?" I started to question before I interrupted myself. "Look at me!" I exclaimed. "Trying to talk myself out of a ride! What a moron!"

"Indeed," Skyfire said gravely, but it was clear that he was amused.

"Shut up," I grumbled good-naturedly, half-heartedly tossing a handful of sand in his direction.

Skyfire ducked good-naturedly as the sand flew by him, then straightened and said to me, "Rest for a while first. As you said, you've had a long trip that hasn't been fun, and you do look terrible—"

"Thanks, "I interjected sourly, but Skyfire just talked over me, not missing a beat.

"—So rest for a while, and then when you have recovered sufficiently, I'll fly you back and drop you off near Autobot Headquarters."

And with that, he gathered up an armful of jet parts, stood, and began to walk away, probably toward wherever it was that he was going to store them, so that he'd be prepared for the next time that Starscream showed up and—

I couldn't finish the thought, didn't really want to think about it just now. Shuddering, I resolved that I would absorb it all…uh, later. This, I decided as I settled down to rest, as ordered.

"Thanks, Skyfire," I called after him after him, while trying to find a comfortable position that didn't automatically force a ton of sand into my armor joints.

Skyfire stopped, turned around, and looked at me oddly as I stilled and began to drift off into a completely exhausted recharge. The last thing I heard before sleep claimed me was Skyfire's words.

"No, Jazz," he said softly. "Thank _you_."

And then I took off for a nice long vacation in Dreamland…


	13. Chapter 12

**_"Time makes all things possible." _**  
_Starscream in "More Than Meets the Eye" _

After spending a few weeks wandering aimlessly around the less densely populated portions of the planet Earth, I came to the conclusion that I have a strange affinity for isolated, deserted islands. I noticed, during the course of my peripatetic travels, that I had a distinct tendency to gravitate toward them for some reason that at first wasn't entirely clear to me. But after giving the issue some thought, I concluded that an island's appeal to me lay simply in its very independence. An island, after all, is separate from everything else, completely self-contained, relying on no one and nothing else for its continued existence. And I realized, as I wandered about the face of the Earth, seeking out deserted coastlines and islands on which I could alight and be alone in order to think and reflect, that I wished to be something of an island myself. I wished to be self-sufficient, independent, with no attachments to anything or to anyone.

The humans have a saying about no man being an island, meaning that no one can exist independently of everyone and everything else. I had discovered over the past few weeks that I wished simply to prove the human adage wrong, to prove that all that I needed to survive – and even to thrive – was me.

The problem with doing that, of course, was that I still had quite a number of attachments and dependencies. I was rather strongly attached to the Decepticons and to the Decepticon cause, for one thing. More importantly than that, I was strongly attached to two different individuals. I was powerless, at the moment, to do anything about one of those attachments, but the other one…? The other one I was going to attend to at my earliest possible convenience. As in, right at that very moment. I was circling above what had become over the past year or so a very familiar location. And, ironically enough, the location was an island.

I was convinced that I had come to the small Indonesian island that Skyfire was calling home in order to warn Skyfire that it was no longer safe for him to remain there, that he should leave right away or run the risk of being killed. I repeatedly told myself that there was no deeper purpose to my journey other than that one simple mission, a simple errand of mercy. But deep down, I knew that there was more to it than that, indeed.

_Much_ more...

Whenever I had visited Skyfire's island in the past, I had been damaged, usually severely so. I had made it something of a habit to come to him for repairs after Megatron had…finished with me. But this time was different in that there hadn't been a confrontation with Megatron at all, at least not in the "normal" sense to which I was accustomed. In fact, Megatron had been far too busy with formulating his latest Brilliant Plan – something about appropriating some kind of "super fuel" that the humans had recently developed – to give me a second thought. Which was, of course, perfectly fine by me. That I'd been spared Megatron's dubious attentions was unusual enough, of course…but even more unusual was my after-the-fact reaction to the entire incident at the humans' movie studio.

This time, so far as I knew, I genuinely hadn't done anything to deserve Megatron's wrath. Usually, I could pinpoint _something_ that I had done wrong, intentionally or otherwise, _something_ that had earned me the treatment that I subsequently received at Megatron's hands. But this time…? This time I knew that I had done nothing to deserve the punishment I'd received. And that had enraged me. After all, it wasn't _my_ fault that Dirge had been damaged en route to Earth. It wasn't _my_ fault that the humans had decided to film a squadron's attempt to retrieve Dirge's inert, powered-down body and its "precious" – albeit ultimately useless – cargo. And how was I supposed to know about a reel of negatives? Was I supposed to be thoroughly familiar with all phases of human movie-making procedures? And it had made me especially angry when Megatron had flown into a rage, plunged his hand into my chest, and ripped out vital components of my body, rendering me unconscious for quite a long time. Megatron had done this for absolutely no reason other than that he had needed someone upon which to vent his frustration. So, for perhaps the first time in my life, I had been furious with Megatron and, more importantly, I was completely without guilt and without fear of retribution for harboring that fury.

So, a day or so after the whole incident, I'd woken up fully repaired and alone in the Med Bay, and I had found myself _still_ angry with Megatron for humiliating me as he had in front of the other Decepticons. So…I left. I decided that Megatron could find someone else to pick on for a while. But even now, weeks later, I was still constantly replaying in my head the series of events that had occurred, trying to understand why it had all happened.

I had spent the past few weeks flying from one remote location to another, just…thinking. Not only had I been thinking about the incident at the film studio, but I had also been thinking about larger issues: about who I was and who I had been so long ago, about Megatron, and, of course, about Skyfire. I knew that things were changing between Megatron and me…but I had to wonder to what end they were changing and if that end would be a beneficial or a detrimental one for me. And of course I had to wonder just how Skyfire fit in with everything that had been happening. But it was all just too huge to contemplate fully. All I knew at the moment was that the longer Skyfire remained on Earth, the more endangered he became…

This, of course, only confirmed my reason for seeing Skyfire this time. For Skyfire's own safety, if nothing else, I knew that this would _have_ to be my last visit with him. I _had_ to convince him to leave – to leave the island, even to leave Earth entirely, if I could manage it – and, more importantly, to give up on me. It wasn't that I necessarily _wanted_ him to give up on me. In truth, I wasn't sure how I felt about that issue; rational thought became hopelessly snarled with emotion whenever I contemplated exactly how I felt about Skyfire and whether or not I wanted to be – or knew that I should be – with him. No, all I knew was that I would only end up bringing him death. Or worse. He _had_ to let me go. He had no choice. Neither did I.

Suppressing a small noise that might have been born of remorse, I descended toward the island below me and scanned the sun-splashed, blindingly white beach upon which Skyfire had established his makeshift camp. I realized after a few confused moments of scanning, during which I couldn't locate a trace of Skyfire, that he had used the natural erosion of the cliffside and a few cleverly-placed boulders – and, no doubt, some anti-scanning technology – to create a shelter. Although it didn't look very comfortable and it certainly wasn't well-stocked with amenities, it did manage to completely hide his presence from any airborne observers. A wise precaution on his part. The only reason that _I_ knew that he was there was because I…felt him there. But I dismissed _that_ thought from my mind before it could consume me.

Transforming, I touched down lightly on the beach a few dozen meters from the rocky overhang where Skyfire had constructed his camouflaged base. I took a few moments to look around the island, realizing with a start that it had become familiar to me, perhaps even comforting. The sound of the waves against the shoreline, the tangy smell of the salty air, and the cry of the seabirds constantly circling over my head were all familiar to me, soothing in their own strange ways. So, too, was the cliff off to my left that reared high above me. It was where I liked to sit whenever I visited Skyfire, staring out over the ocean and thinking. And I knew that if I were to turn around, there would be the same dense patch of vegetation behind me, marking the line of demarcation between the beach and the overgrown interior section of the island. All of it, every small feature of the island beneath my feet, had become a familiar part of my life, without me even realizing it, and it had managed to do so in a relatively short period of time. I had only been to the island a handful of times, and yet it had somehow managed to become a part of me.

Perhaps it was because each time I had visited Skyfire, I found myself staying a little longer, talking to him a little more, sharing a bit more of myself and my present life with him. The first few visits had been strained, marred with mutual suspicion and discomfort, but now, after so many repairs and so much contact, I found that I was actually beginning to _enjoy_ Skyfire's company. As I used to enjoy his company. More surprisingly, I found that I no longer felt that I was doing anything wrong by spending time with him. He was, if nothing else, a close friend. And, technically, he was a Neutral, so I rationalized that I wasn't really doing anything traitorous to the Decepticon cause by seeing Skyfire, talking to him, being with him, and just…basking in his quiet, reassuring, and gentle presence.

Slowly, quietly, I made my way towards the enclosure that Skyfire used as a shelter, only to find him deep in recharge. As I approached him more closely, I allowed my feet to make soft scuffling noises in the sand, thinking that it would wake him. Of course, it didn't. I had to chuckle at his antiquated systems and his total lack of safety alerts. Had he been any other Transformer, Autobot or Decepticon, I knew that he would have been instantly awake and on his feet when I'd made a noise, ready to defend himself. But he wasn't just _any_ Transformer. Unlike the rest of us, he wasn't a product of the eons-long Cybertronian civil war; he was a product of the eons-long peace that had preceded that war. Still, I was surprised the Autobots hadn't installed more systems upgrades appropriate to a warrior in the short time that he'd been with them. But perhaps he hadn't been there long enough…or, more likely, he had refused such equipment, since he was always quick to claim that he wasn't – and, moreover, didn't _want_ to be – a warrior .

I stood there for a while and watched Skyfire recharge, realizing as I gazed at him that he truly was exactly the same person he had been millions of years ago. He was still the same pacifistic scientist with that wonderful, calming, quiet presence that had been so very attractive to me so long ago. It was odd, though; I could remember being his mate, and I knew that I had been happy being his mate, indeed, even though that period of time had been a lamentably short one…but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't remember _how_ that happiness had felt. I couldn't recall the details of the life that I had led back then. So much time had passed, and so much had happened since then, that I had completely put Skyfire and our relationship and my life back then out of my mind. It had, in many ways, been necessary to do so, or else I could not have moved on with my life after I had lost him, could never again have found purpose and direction and meaning in my life, as I had eventually found such things with the Decepticons…and with Megatron. I had safely tucked Skyfire away in the darkest and most isolated corner of my mind, to the point that, at times, I had been able to forget that he had existed. In short, in order to survive, I had been able to put him completely out of my mind.

But now…now that Skyfire was back and renewing his commitment to me, speaking to me of his undiminished love for me, his need for me…Well, now I sometimes found that I couldn't get him out of my mind no matter how hard I tried. I thought about him often, sometimes constantly, and every so often, memories of him and of our disastrously brief life together surfaced at the worst of times…and that wasn't a good thing at all, not with Megatron being so unpredictably violent lately. No, nothing good would come of the whole situation in which Skyfire and I found ourselves mired. I was sure of it. So, Skyfire had to leave, had to forget me as I had once been able to forget him, had to move on with his life or even start a new one, if necessary. He had to do it not just for his own sake but for mine as well.

So, I knelt down beside Skyfire and reached out to nudge him awake, so that I could talk to him, convince him to leave…but I found that my hand froze halfway to its destination. I found myself not really wanting to alert Skyfire to my presence, not just yet. Instead, I sat back on my heels and watched him as he recharged, the machine's gauge emitting a low, muffled, rhythmic beep as it measured the flow of energon entering his body. After a while, that wholly mechanical sound began to blend with the natural sounds around me, with the constant crash of the waves against the shoreline, the wind, and the omnipresent cry of the seabirds overhead, and I felt a completely unfamiliar sense of peace wash over me. For a time that might have lasted for a minute and might have lasted for an hour, I reveled in that all-too-rare sensation, allowing it to wash over me as I gazed out over the ocean, watching the waves crash and foam against the rocky shoreline, absently noticing that the sun was beginning to set…and then I eventually looked back down at Skyfire.

And for the first time in a very long time, as I studied his peaceful, unconscious face and his entirely relaxed body, I felt safe and completely at ease in his presence, as if I had never belonged anywhere else in the universe. I stopped caring about what I had done so wrong as to cause Megatron to fly off into such a rage, to attack and damage me without cause. I stopped caring about the public humiliation that I'd endured as a result of his rage. In fact, for the next few moments, I stopped caring about absolutely everything associated with my present life as a Decepticon. Instead, I just wanted to remember the past. I wanted to remember who I had been eons ago, before the war, before…everything.

As my mind wandered, trying to remember, I found myself staring down at Skyfire's hand, which was resting limply on the ground next to me. I reached out slowly, nervously, for I was normally never allowed to touch Megatron without his explicit permission to do so and so over the years I had become hesitant to touch _anyone_. But I reminded myself that this was not Megatron and that Skyfire was asleep and that I would only touch him for a second. He would never know that I had touched him.

Carefully, almost reverently, I took up Skyfire's limp hand in mine and lifted it up so I could cradle it in my cross-legged lap. I studied every detail of his fingers as I lightly caressed them with my own. His hands were larger and stronger than mine, of course, but they were gentle and kind as well. They did not represent pain and violence and humiliation and violation. Instead, they represented gentleness. Acceptance. Unconditional love. They represented a past that, at the moment, I desperately and inexplicably wanted to recall.

All of those years ago, I had had something right and good and wonderful…but I had lost it. Or rather, I had been wracked by guilt and had thrown it all away in a desperate attempt to hold on to my sanity. It was, unfortunately, an effort that had not been entirely successful. Although I could function, I could not say that I had been completely sane at the time…and I knew that that fragile quasi-sanity had only degraded further from millions of years of intimate exposure to Megatron and his…peculiarities. So now I found that I yearned for that normality, that rightness that had been mine at the time, millions of years ago when Skyfire had been mine and I had been his. So now I found myself hugging Skyfire's arm close to my chest, even bending over it so that my lips rested against his hand. I found myself turning my thoughts inward, desperately searching for the person I had been all those years ago, the person that Skyfire had known and loved.

But everywhere I looked and no matter how frantically I searched, I found only darkness and anguish. There was nothing but chaos and confusion and hurt and a wretched shadow of the person I had once been. And that, of course, was the person that Skyfire loved, the person that he was now living for. But…that person wasn't me. Not anymore. Which meant, of course, that Skyfire staying on his island – waiting for me, repairing me when necessary, all the while hoping that I'd come to my senses – truly was a monumental waste of time. The missing person for whom Skyfire was searching was dead, and his chances of resurrection were, as far as I could tell, completely nonexistent. No one, after all, could resurrect a corpse that had been dead and rotting for ten million years.

But just then, Skyfire moved his arm and let out a small groan, interrupting my troubled thoughts. He was waking up, so I immediately dropped his hand and jumped up to stand a few feet away from him. He started at the sudden noise and motion and, without looking at me, he sat up and grabbed his gun, which had been lying next to him on the ground. At the sight of a gun being pointed in my direction, I instinctively raised my own weapons and aimed them at him. He squinted at me for a moment as he tried to focus sleepy eyes on his would-be attacker, but then, as recognition dawned upon him, he instantly dropped his weapon and grinned a thrilled and slightly sappy grin at me.

"Starscream!" he exclaimed, obviously delighted to find me standing there. Usually no one was happy or excited when they saw me, so I couldn't help but return a reserved smile as I lowered my own weapon.

"Hello, Skyfire," was all I could think of to say. For some strange reason, I was suddenly feeling awkward, shy. I had lowered my defenses while I had been holding on to Skyfire's hand, and it was taking something of an effort to raise them again, especially in the company of such genuine happiness about my unexpected presence. Meanwhile, Skyfire's smile faded as he stood up, unhooked himself from the recharger and looked at me carefully, penetratingly, critically circling me in order to see me from all possible angles.

"Are you injured?" he asked solicitously, almost anxiously, as he paced around me. "Is everything all right?"

"I'm fine, Skyfire. Really," I assured him when he regarded me doubtfully. "I swear, I'm undamaged this time."

"Oh…" Skyfire responded, nonplussed. And then, after thinking quietly to himself for a moment, he nodded and smiled again as he sat himself down on a nearby boulder. "I am so glad that you're here, Starscream."

"Well, you won't be after I tell you the reason _why_ I'm here," I answered him flippantly.

Skyfire looked at me askance for a moment after I said that, eyeing me speculatively. Finally, he announced bluntly, "I'm not leaving."

"How did you know that's what I was going to tell you?" I responded, taken aback.

"I don't know," Skyfire answered with a thoughtful frown. "Perhaps it's the…"

I knew what he was going to say, of course. He was going to go on and on about how we still had a strong bond between us, blah, blah, blah. Whatever the question was, Skyfire's answer was almost always, "It's the bond." I…really didn't want to be reminded of that just now. I had a mission to accomplish, after all.

"Oh, don't start," I interrupted wearily and then, without giving him a chance to respond, I launched into the speech that I'd carefully prepared and committed to memory on my way to the island, so that Skyfire wouldn't be able to distract me from it. "Look Skyfire," I announced. "I came here to tell you that it's become too dangerous for you to stay here on this island. You should leave this area and find a new place to hide. Better yet, you should probably leave this planet. After a while, I'm sure I could locate you at some point and…"

Despite my careful preparations, my voice still trailed off uncertainly when I noticed that Skyfire was leveling a mutinously determined look at me. I may as well have been talking to one of the cliff faces that stood unmoving and silent all around me, for he was doing a perfect impression of them. I knew, at that moment, that he wasn't going to listen to anything that I had to say. I sighed exasperatedly and started to pace back and forth in front of the boulder upon which he was sitting.

"_Why_ do you always have to be so stubborn, Skyfire?" I demanded of him. "Why can't you just _listen_ to me for once in your life and leave while you still can? Eventually, someone is going to become suspicious and follow me here. It's bound to happen. You _know_ that. And if they find you, they'll kill you, Skyfire. Bank on that," I finished bluntly.

"I will _not_ leave this planet without you, Starscream," Skyfire responded, unmoved by my imploring tones. "Bank on _that_." I snorted contemptuously at that, opened my mouth to argue back, but he spoke over me, saying vehemently, "I _have_ to be here…in case you need me," he added, as if that was all the explanation that he needed

"Fat lot of good you'll do me if you're dead!" I spat out with a derisive snort, after which I inwardly winced at my own abrasiveness. Primus, how in the universe did he put up with me? Why didn't he hate me as much as everyone else did? As much as _I_ did? Again he'd probably say it was the bond, but I couldn't understand how that made any difference. I mean, Megatron and I hated each other just fine and we had bonded for far longer than Skyfire and I had been together… I noticed that Skyfire was staring past me. I imagined that he was probably thinking about what an ingrate I was.

_Bravo, Starscream, _a voice in my head sniped at me._ You're always giving him hell when all he does is try to help you. And then you hate yourself for it, which makes you hate him, which makes you hate yourself even more… _And then, in order to derail that particularly dangerous train of thought, I made a gesture of exasperated dismissal before making a move to transform and take off while saying aloud, "Oh, just forget it, Skyfire. Stay here, then. Get yourself killed. See if I care."

"Wait!" Skyfire responded, panic in his voice, before I could take off. "Please don't leave, Starscream. Maybe…Maybe you are right." I turned back to face him, saw the placating and concerned look on his face as he continued, "Maybe I _should_ move to a new location. It'd be safer for both of us. There are literally hundreds of uninhabited islands all around this area. It won't take much effort to find one that is suitable for our purposes—"

"_'Our'_ purposes?" I interrupted. "Skyfire, I don't think you understand the true magnitude of the situation here. It doesn't matter whether you're on this island or one just like it a thousand miles from here. Megatron _will_ find you and he _will_ kill you. Besides, I really _can't_ keep coming here. It's not that I haven't appreciated your help. I have, and it's been…nice…to have someone on my side for once, someone to talk to. But this will have to be my last visit not just to this place, but with _you_, specifically. I…just can't go on like this, Skyfire," I finished softly, apologetically. "I'm sorry."

I watched as complete blankness overcame Skyfire's expression. I knew that, over the past year, he'd become a creature clinging tightly to a very dim hope, the hope that I would see the light, the hope that I'd leave Megatron and return to him as if nothing had happened, as if we'd never been separated. It pained me to dash his hopes as I was doing, but I also knew that it was necessary. If I could just convince him to abandon the hope that he harbored for me and return to Cybertron or to the Autobots or to wherever he wanted to go, his life would be so much easier. _My_ life would be so much easier. There would be no more agonizing over the situation with Skyfire. No more worrying. If he'd simply let go, then I could simply shut away that part of my life again, just as it had been safely shut away from my consciousness until the day we'd discovered Skyfire buried in the Arctic, and life…would go on. Things would be normal again, back to status quo. I longed for that more than I could say. What I'd told Skyfire was true: I couldn't go on as we had been. It would, I know, quickly degrade what little sanity I had left.

I knew from the blankness on Skyfire's face that he was thinking about what I'd just said, that he was carefully turning everything over in his mind, weighing alternatives and exploring options. For a brief moment, I was confident that he'd reach the same logical conclusion that I'd already reached, that he'd recognize the practicality of setting me free, and that he'd then do as I wanted him to do, for once. Of course, that brief hope was dashed when Skyfire finally opened his mouth to speak.

"Being here for you is all that I have, Starscream," Skyfire said slowly, his voice slowly gaining momentum as he continued to speak. "It is all that I have left in my life. It is the only purpose I have remaining after being…isolated for so long. I _will_ relocate to another island for safety's sake. It would be both logical and prudent to do so. But I will _never_ give up on you, Starscream. Never. Please…please don't ask me to do so again."

There were a few moments of silence as I stood there and tried to figure out how to reply to Skyfire's last heartfelt statement. I knew from dimly remembered experience that once he made a decision about something important, nothing could persuade him to budge from it. But couldn't he see that it was foolish to trust someone as unstable as me? Couldn't he see that he was risking his life for someone who'd probably end up destroying him at some point, indirectly or otherwise? The whole situation was so confusing that it often made my head spin, as it was doing now. But then Skyfire's soft, determined voice broke into my thoughts again.

"I _will_ stay here for you, no matter what happens," Skyfire was vowing. "It's a promise that has become my identity, if you will, and I cannot change it. You are right in that this…this stalemate situation cannot last forever, though. At some point _you_, Starscream, will have to make a choice."

As if I hadn't already _made_ a choice! As if telling him all that I'd told him hadn't made it crystal-clear as to what my choice was!

"But I _have_ made a choice!" I exclaimed exasperatedly, throwing my hands into the air in frustration. "I am a warrior, second in command of the Decepticon forces. _That's_ what I've chosen! Why can't you just accept that and leave me and this planet forever, move on with your life and leave mine to me?"

A look came over Skyfire's face that was profoundly sad.

"I truly wish that it was that simple, Starscream. If all you were was a Decepticon warrior and if you were truly content with that role, then I might be able to leave you, if that was what you really wanted. I think I would still feel quite empty without you, but at least I'd know that you were happy and doing what you felt was important. But when I found out exactly what was happening to you, I could not – and cannot – bring myself to abandon you to that kind of…treatment. You cannot imagine how much it angers me to see what Megatron does to you, how he uses you and manipulates you and then…then…"

Skyfire's voice trailed off, he turned away from me, and I knew that he was angry. Not with me, perhaps, but he was definitely angry with someone. Megatron, likely. Skyfire's tight, curt tone of voice, the expression on his face as he'd spoken to me, and his balled-up fists were just a few of the subtle outward signs of his anger. A small part of me was happy that he was so protective of me, that the things that happened between Megatron and me managed to rouse a powerful, protective anger in this otherwise gentle, peaceful soul. The other part of me, however, wished that he would just leave well enough alone, for the sake of my own sanity if not for his.

And of course, Skyfire wasn't the only one who was becoming angry. For my part, I absolutely _hated_ it when Skyfire dictated to me, in painful detail and with god-like authority, all of the wrongs in my life. I hated it when he essentially told me how much my life sucked. Oh, I knew that various aspects of it were bad, of course; I'd have to be an idiot not to recognize that…but on the other hand, I knew that Skyfire didn't really understand the situation surrounding Megatron and me. Without that understanding, of course he'd see the situation as abhorrently twisted and repugnant. And, of course, no one understood Megatron and me. No one.

Skyfire, meanwhile, had had a moment to gather his thoughts. And once he did, he proclaimed, as if to mirror what I'd been thinking, "No one deserves that kind of treatment, Starscream. No one should have to tolerate it happening to themselves, and no one with any sense of compassion whatsoever _should_ tolerate it happening to anyone else."

As Skyfire finished his last sentence, his expression transformed from anger to concern, once he realized from the way that I was glaring at him that he had said too much. He had stumbled into an area of conversation that I had expressly forbidden, and he knew it.

"I-I'm sorry Starscream," he stammered quickly. "I pushed too far. Please don't leave. Stay, please, and…talk to me."

I _did_ want to leave, and that must have shown on my face and in the way I was standing there, my posture stiff and unforgiving… yet I found that I couldn't bring myself to fire up my thrusters, transform, and take off. I had come to Skyfire's island with a mission to accomplish, I reminded myself, and it hadn't been accomplished yet. And although I had been able to calm myself down a bit, I was miffed by Skyfire's presumption, so I found myself sniping at him.

"How would _you_ know what one does or does not deserve?" I snarled. "_I _will make the decision as to what I do or do not deserve. Not _you_." I said it with all the force and conviction that I could muster because I meant every word of it.

But Skyfire, rather than arguing, just nodded his head sadly and sat quietly, staring at the ground around the boulder upon which he was sitting. I stood a few feet away from him and just watched him. I watched him as he fixatedly contemplated his right hand, tentatively clenching and flexing his fingers as if he was trying to determine if there was something wrong with them. That had been the hand, of course, that I had been holding while he had been recharging, but as far as I knew that shouldn't have left any kind impression on him. Still, as I watched him I began to feel that same kind of sinking fear that always came over me when Megatron had figured out something that I had done and I knew that I was going to have to pay for it. But it was impossible for Skyfire to know that I had touched him…wasn't it?

I shouldn't have done it. It had been a mistake. In fact, coming here again at all had been a mistake, for it had aroused in me memories and emotions that I did not want to explore. So, I was taking a hasty step backward, preparing to transform and escape from Skyfire's troubling presence, when he suddenly looked up at me, watched me almost stumbling in my haste. He chose not to comment, though. Instead, he said something entirely unexpected, as if he'd been reading my thoughts when I had been holding his hand and trying to remember what I had been like and what my life had been like when I had been with him.

"I remember the person you used to be, Starscream," Skyfire said serenely as he gazed at me, taking in my panicked expression and yet giving it no heed, saying nothing about it. "The scientist, the explorer." He smiled warmly. "I remember that person as if I had just met him yesterday."

His soft, encouraging and comforting expression as he spoke was so familiar, so…inviting, that I felt something inside me begin to soften. My panic subsided immediately as I gazed at his hopeful, upturned face. There was a small part of me, I knew, that desperately wanted to be with Skyfire, to stay with him and never return to Decepticon Headquarters, but it had always been constantly overshadowed by doubt and fear. Ever since we had discovered his deactivated body frozen in the Arctic ice, I'd been fighting an inner battle with myself, and that battle within had become more and more violent as time went on. I didn't understand all the things that were going on inside me, and that was the most frustrating thing of all. I could feel changes happening….and, again, I found myself wondering where the situation between Megatron and me and between Skyfire and me would lead. I couldn't change Skyfire, nor, apparently, could I make him leave as I had hoped to be able to do as I'd flown toward his island…

And I knew now, as I gazed at Skyfire, caught somewhere between complete panic and desperate, idealistic hopefulness, that I would never be able to bring myself to stay away from him, either. Still, I knew that I had to be practical. I had learned a long time ago that if I always expected the worst, I'd never be disappointed. And maybe Skyfire needed to learn that lesson, too…

"The person that you remember died a long time ago, Skyfire," I said bluntly to Skyfire's still hopefully upturned, still gently smiling face. "Someday you'll realize that."

In response to that, Skyfire's smile actually deepened, and he shrugged at me, as if shrugging off my protestations.

"Oh, I suspect that he is not dead at all, but simply in hiding. I merely hope to bring him out of hiding," Skyfire gently replied. And then, quite unexpectedly, he raised his arm straight out and opened his hand, palm up. It was, I noticed with trepidation, the same hand I had been holding earlier. Quietly, encouragingly, non-threateningly, Skyfire murmured, "Come, Starscream. Take my hand."

I had no idea what Skyfire was planning. Never had he invited me to touch him. In fact, other than what I'd done earlier today I hadn't touched him at all since he'd been reactivated. And, after eons of exposure to Megatron's touch, I was wary of being touched. So, as Skyfire sat there, patiently offering to take my hand, all of my inner self-preservative alarms went off. I took a step backward and eyed Skyfire warily, ready to take off and fly far away from him at the slightest indication that I needed to do so.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Starscream," Skyfire crooned soothingly to me, as if I was some kind of snarling wild animal that he had cornered and that he was trying to calm and tame. "You know that. Besides, you're the one with the weapons, are you not?" he added, nodding over to where he'd left his double-barreled laser rifle by the shelter.

"What are you going to do?" I asked him apprehensively, eyeing him as if he was a horribly disfigured creature intent on devouring me. His hand was still patiently reaching out to me.

"I just want to share some memories with you, Starscream," he calmly explained. "Please…I think it will be good – for _both_ of us – to remember. To share. No strings attached, I promise."

Skyfire glanced at his outstretched hand and then expectantly back to me. His expression was completely open, honest, and inviting. And even though I knew he probably wasn't planning any treachery, I still found it hard to trust that what he was proposing was safe. I remembered what had happened in the Arctic, after all, when he'd learned more about me than I had ever wanted him to know, and that that knowledge was the reason that, now, he was refusing to let me go.

But on the other hand, the part of me that wanted to know these things of the past, that wanted to remember fully who and what I had been at the time, and that had led me here to find out those things, was screaming for me to just shut up and take his hand. And I could feel that part of me winning the inner battle. I took a few cautious, halting steps toward him, as if I was being unwillingly pulled toward to him by a giant electromagnet, and stared at his proffered hand. Skyfire waited patiently. He didn't move forward or try to grab me; he just waited with his arm stretched out, his hand open, his expression non-threatening and wholly encouraging.

And eventually, after fighting back instincts finely honed by eons of war that warned me of terrible danger, I slowly raised my own arm up and held my hand above his, trying but not entirely succeeding in an effort to prevent it from shaking. I hesitated for a split second…and then swallowed my misgivings and slowly lowered my hand toward his until my palm touched his. Once contact was made, Skyfire's fingers curled around mine, not in a controlling way, but gently, reassuringly, and…gratefully.

Almost instantly, my mind was suddenly flooded with visions of the past. I saw Cybertron as it had been before the war, shining brightly and buzzing with industrious but wholly peaceful activity. I saw my old lab and the colleagues with whom I had worked. And I saw Skyfire, of course. In this vision or dream or shared memory or whatever it was, he was examining some sort of device in the lab. Then he was looking up at me, smiling a bright, slightly lop-sided grin at me. This scene that I was witnessing, I suddenly recalled, had actually happened millions of years ago on Cybertron, shortly after Skyfire and I had bonded. I noticed, though, that it was from my own perspective, not Skyfire's. Somehow, physical contact with a conscious Skyfire was helping me to access one of the long-forgotten memories that I had quite deliberately buried deep within my psyche, just as it had happened before in the Arctic a year ago.

As if the visual memory had served to unlock the emotional one – and perhaps that was, indeed, the case – I could feel all the emotions that were associated with the memory that I was witnessing. I could feel my excitement over the device that Skyfire and I had been working on together. And, more importantly, I could feel Skyfire's love and affection for me. It was so tangible, so very _real_, that I felt as if I could reach out and touch it, wrap myself in it. It was a safe and comfortable love, and that feeling of safety and acceptance enveloped me, calmed me, and I felt my body relax, release the tension that had been plaguing me since my arrival on the island. There was no longer any fear or uncertainty in my mind. There was just…peace. Acceptance. Mutual admiration and trust. And I felt important, too. _Valuable_, even.

The feelings wrought by the memory I was witnessing were intoxicating precisely because they were the very feelings that were completely absent from my present life, and their absence of course made me crave them all the more. I craved them intensely, in fact, with all the desperation of one long deprived of them. And now…Well, it had been so long since I'd felt anything remotely close to any of these emotions ; I'd forgotten what it was like. And it was not lost upon me that I was feeling all of these emotions right now, in the present…which meant that somewhere, some_how_, that part of me that Skyfire was helping me to access was, indeed, still alive…

The thought frightened me. If those memories and emotions weren't dead in me but merely dormant, then that meant that they could be reactivated. And that, for some odd reasoning, terrified me. So I hastily backtracked, pulled away from them, convinced myself that what I was seeing wasn't reality at all. I firmly reminded myself that the present was the only true reality, that I lived in the present and not in the long-buried past. I knew that I had to get away from this seductive memory and the dangerous emotions that it evoked as soon as possible.

Gasping, I jerked my hand away from Skyfire's and stared wildly at him. He managed a small smile.

"My feelings for you will never change, Starscream," he said in a slightly shaky voice that matched the shakiness that was suddenly plaguing my own body. The touch, the brief merging of our memories, had had a powerful affect on us both. I stood there for several long moments, trying to sort out all that I had just remembered, and all that Skyfire had said.

"I have to go," I announced, voice shaking as much as my body was, as I warily backed away from Skyfire.

"Will I…see you again?" he asked hesitantly of me.

"No!" I insisted at first, firmly and without hesitation. But I knew even as I said the word that it was a lie. I _did_ want to see Skyfire again. I wanted that more than anything, in fact. But I simply wasn't sure if I _should_ see him again. I sighed and then cast a wry look over my shoulder at Skyfire. "Well, maybe…" I amended quietly.

A slow smile spread across Skyfire's face, and a knowing twinkle formed in his eyes as he nodded in response. And for some reason, I couldn't resist returning his smile with one of my own. It felt good to give him _something_, even if it was something as small and trivial as a smile. I knew that he deserved so much more…and I also knew that I wasn't yet prepared to give that to him.

I turned away from Skyfire then and took off, not bothering to transform. I thought that perhaps feeling the wind in my face might help to bring me back to reality after my encounter with Skyfire. So I circled the island once and then banked to head off toward Decepticon Headquarters.

And, immediately after taking off, a flood of conflicting emotions coursed through me as I tried to make sense out of what had just happened with Skyfire. I wanted to see him again, yes, but I wondered how long I could keep seeing him until Megatron found out about it. I wondered what would happen then , whether or not Megatron would choose to kill Skyfire. If I were put into a position where I'd have to choose one or the other…I really wasn't sure if I could make such a choice. Then again, maybe I could; I was a Decepticon, so that would have to come first. Wouldn't it? I shook my head in frustration.

I had too many questions and not nearly enough answers for them all.

One thing I was suddenly sure of, however: I knew that I would deal with Megatron when the time was right. At the moment, I felt as if I wasn't afraid of him, and I determined that one day – soon, I hoped – I would confront him…and emerge from that confrontation as the victor. With that thought, a renewed sense of strength and confidence flowed through me. This was exceedingly odd because, usually, having such thoughts of dealing with Megatron that way only managed to cow me to my very core. Yet, there it was, a sudden bloom of confidence, of deeply-felt surety in my ability to escape from Megatron's grasp. And I knew, on an instinctive level, that the feeling of confidence that I was experiencing originated with Skyfire. It was, I supposed, a legacy of the brief mind-touch we'd just shared.

Skyfire had confidence in me, confidence that, somehow, I would find the courage that _he_ knew lurked deep within myself, the courage to overcome my dependence on Megatron, and Skyfire's confidence had managed to rub off on me. I wondered, for a moment, how long the feeling and the courage and determination would last…and then I realized that it was probably best to attempt to make the most of it while I still had it…


	14. Chapter 13

**_"This time you have dared too much, Starscream. You must pay the price your insolence!" _**  
_Megatron in "Traitor" _

Three long beeps on my internal communicator disrupted the otherwise quiet solitude of the cavernous room of which I was, currently, the only occupant. I was sitting in front of a computer terminal in the large section of Decepticon Headquarters that had been modified for processing energon. Creating the Stunticons had drained a huge percentage of our energon reserves, so now I needed to decide which systems could be temporarily shut down until more energy could be acquired. It was an important task, but it was far overshadowed by the news that the comm signal had conveyed to me.

_So the wayward Second finally decides to return home and resume his duties,_ I thought disgustedly.

The comm signal that had interrupted my focused attention on the bleak data on the screen in front of me didn't require a response; it had been meant simply to deliver a very specific message. Despite that, I decided to respond to the sender of the message anyway.

"Where?" I snapped.

"Bridge," was Soundwave's immediate and completely toneless reply.

I scowled as I considered the situation. It was true that Starscream had always been the sort to occasionally seek out quiet, lonely places to think or recharge or Primus only knew what else, but I'd never thought much about it. Starscream was a vast reservoir of strange behaviors and odd habits, and disappearing for a few days after we'd had a conflict was just another of those habits. Given that and the fact that he usually returned with a fresh perspective and an acute awareness of his position within our relationship, I was willing to let the behavior slide. Within reason, of course. However, of late Starscream had been becoming increasingly unreasonable in that regard. His little solitary jaunts to parts unknown were becoming both more lengthy and more frequent, too frequent to continue to simply ignore. Worse, upon his return from those trips, his attitude was often more combative and more insufferably cocky than when he had left.

And besides that, this time Starscream had chosen a very inopportune stretch of time to be AWOL. He had left just before an extremely important mission, a mission that had had incredible potential, but that had instead ended in complete disaster. I could feel my anger rise as I thought about Starscream's insolence, his audacity in leaving precisely when I had needed him. I glared at the computer terminal in front of me, not seeing the dull figures and statistics that were scrolling across it at all. Instead, I saw Starscream's face there, arrogantly sneering back at me.

_The failure of this last mission was partly your fault, Starscream, _I thought maliciously at the imaginary image on the screen,_ for not being there to lead your squadron in fighting the Aerialbots. You left without permission, knowing full well that you'd be needed for this latest undertaking._

The anger and resentment that had been building up for the past few weeks finally surfaced, channeling its energy through my arm and into my fist, which in turn ended up buried in the terminal in front of me. Sparks flew harmlessly around my arm as I dislodged it from the computer. Heedlessly, I stood and headed for the door, determined to make Starscream pay for this latest round of impudence. It was, I decided as I headed for the door, time to put an end to his rebellious and mutinous behavior once and for all.

It took only a few minutes to reach the bridge from the processing section. Any Decepticon walking down the hallways could plainly see that I was in no mood to be stopped for any reason. The few other Decepticons that I had encountered on the way took one look at my expression and prudently scurried out of sight down any convenient side corridor that they could find. So, minutes after I left the processing section, I was striding through the doors to the bridge as they swooshed open before me, taking quick survey of everyone present and their location as I entered.

Soundwave was there, of course, standing impassively, like a lifeless statue, right by the door. His face, as always, revealed nothing of his thoughts, but I knew that he was keenly watching everything that was going on the bridge…and that he would continue to do so. Skywarp, meanwhile, was leaning casually against a terminal, poking at a datapad that he held in one hand. He glanced up at me as I entered, and he must have instantly ascertained my mood and intentions, for he quickly averted his eyes, shifting his gaze instead toward the two figures across the room from him.

Thundercracker was sitting at a computer terminal, his back toward me. And then, of course, there was Starscream. He was bent over Thundercracker's shoulder, presumably looking at the same information on the screen in front of them. As I stared at the two Seekers huddled together, talking softly to each other, I had a sudden urge to power up my fusion cannon and destroy both of them. Second only to Optimus Prime, those two individuals were currently at the top of my To Be Destroyed list, Thundercracker less so than Starscream, of course…but I could not deny that I experienced a certain satisfaction at the thought of eliminating both of them at the same time. I resisted the urge, however and consciously relaxed the arm that sported the powerful weapon. For now, I wanted a few answers from Starscream, but then… Oh, _then_ it would be time to exact the appropriate punishment for his wayward behavior.

"Starscream!" I yelled as I stomped across the deck and stood right behind him.

Incredibly, Starscream didn't even bother to glance at me over his shoulder, much less to turn around to face me. Instead, he simply screeched, "I'm busy!"

I noticed Thundercracker visibly cringe at Starscream's loud and impulsive response, but ignoring him for the moment, I grabbed Starscream's arm and forced him to turn around and face me. There was something decidedly peculiar about the defiant expression on his face as he regarded me. No, it was more than just the look on his face. I felt something different emanating from Starscream's body. It was almost…tangible, as if something was _pushing_ on my own spark. It was a troubling feeling, but for the moment it was not worrisome enough to distract me from what I had come to the bridge to do.

"You left the base without my permission!" I growled, loudly enough that everyone on the bridge could hear but not so loudly as to seem out of control with anger.

"So what!?" was Starscream's only response. He met my glare with his own equally angry one, and then he had the audacity to turn his back to me. He returned his attention to studying the reports he'd been studying when I'd arrived on the bridge, as if he'd entirely forgotten my presence—or as if he'd decided that my presence was inconsequential. That, combined with the fact that that troubling pushing feeling was there again, ignited into an inferno the rage that had been smoldering within me since I'd received the signal from Soundwave that had announced Starscream's return. It took something as simple as a few words from Thundercracker to unleash it.

"Starscream," Thundercracker said to Starscream in an urgent whisper that was not quite soft enough to prevent me from overhearing, "try not to make the situation worse—"

"Silence!" I bellowed, enraged by Thundercracker's intrusion. Using all the strength I could muster in my left arm, I swung my fist into Thundercracker's shoulder and sent him flying off the chair. He landed hard and, to my immense satisfaction, I heard a groan of pain escape him as he tried to support himself on his now crumpled shoulder. I glanced over at Skywarp to gauge his reaction and was surprised to see him glaring laser beams at Thundercracker. Perhaps he wasn't as corrupted as I'd thought…

But there was no time for me to contemplate that possibility at the moment. I knew that I needed to focus my attention upon Starscream, who had turned around again and was gaping at Thundercracker; it always threw him off when I released my anger on someone other than him. Starscream recovered quickly, though, and aimed a venomous glare at me. I raised my hand and pointed an accusing finger directly in his face.

"You are no longer allowed to leave the base without my explicit permission, Starscream," I growled threateningly, fully expecting him to be cowed by the obvious rage in my voice and by what had happened to Thundercracker, who had still not managed to pull himself up off the floor yet. So I was thrown off-guard for a moment when, without flinching in the least, Starscream casually pushed my hand out of the way and stood up straight.

"Hah!" he snorted contemptuously, his arms folded defiantly over his chest. "As if it would matter, anyway, Megatron. You seem perfectly capable of completely screwing up missions whether I'm here or not."

I was shocked by the reply, not so much by the words—they weren't entirely dissimilar from words that Starscream had flung at me before—as by the internal sensations that I was experiencing while he was spouting off his venomous words. Starscream was being uncharacteristically fearless, confidently so; he wasn't hysterically screaming nonsense about irrelevant issues. And, instead of timidly waiting for me to reply to his baiting words, he boldly continued to launch more of them at me instead.

"This latest fiasco with the key to Vector Sigma is a perfect example," he spat disgustedly, pointing to the terminal he and Thundercracker had been studying prior to my arrival on the bridge. "You found Alpha Trion and took the key, but why didn't you kill him, Megatron? Didn't it _ever_ occur to you that Optimus Prime would try to create some new Transformers of his own and would therefore need to access Vector Sigma himself?"

I opened my mouth to answer, but he continued on, his voice gaining momentum, volume, and confidence as he spoke.

"And what about these things, these _Stunticons_ of yours?" he spat contemptuously. "You used an enormous amount of energon that we really couldn't spare in the first place in order to create…what? A bunch of rowdy, undisciplined mercenaries no better than the Insecticons! What a waste of effort and energy!"

The power and authority behind Starscream's words were affecting me in strange ways. I suddenly felt as though I was shrinking and Starscream was growing with every word that he said. His confidence seemed to be unshakeable—and disturbingly genuine this time—and he was purposely using the bond between us to make every word deliver a potently contemptuous punch. In all the eons that I had known Starscream, I had never encountered this aspect of him before, which made it clear that this newfound power that he was exhibiting was a very recent development, a development that needed to be crushed immediately. He may have been succeeding in some small way in intimidating me, but I had to remind myself that I was not only the smarter of the two of us, but also the stronger.

By far.

"Starscream…" I growled threateningly, warning him to stop while he still had a chance. I knew that he wouldn't stop, though. In a way, I was counting on it.

"You are a pathetic, _worthless_ excuse for a Decepticon leader," Starscream yelled in my face in response to my warning. "And _I_ don't have to listen to you anymore!"

And with those words, Starscream had crossed the line. In my mind, after uttering those words, he deserved whatever he would get…and I fully intended to give him everything that he deserved.

"Wrong!" I said icily,

And then, before Starscream could say another word, the back of my hand made contact with the side of his head. He spun around and landed on his hands and knees. He looked up at me, now a little shaken, but not completely so. The defiant expression was still there. I walked over to him and stood over him. As I stood there, glaring down at him in abject hatred and all-consuming rage that I knew that he could sense, I could feel his defiance, his confidence beginning to falter, beginning to be replaced by fear. As he watched silently and unmovingly, as if he was frozen in place, I lifted my foot and placed it with deceptive gentleness on top of Starscream's head. And then, ever so slowly, I began to press down until he was lying facedown on the deck, his head wedged between the floor and my foot. He offered no resistance. As his confidence died, mine grew stronger.

"Starscream, as usual you have pushed me too far." I pressed down on his head until he cried out, his hands futilely grasping my leg. "And, as usual, you will pay for it."

"Wait, Megatron!" came his muffled but pleading voice from the floor. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean it!"

Ahhhh, _there_ they were! He'd said the words that I'd always expected him to say. Starscream could occasionally summon the confidence to stand up to me, but he'd never found the courage to keep up the bravado for more than a few rounds of words between us. So now he was spouting the same desperate words that he always spouted when he found that his ambition was outmatched by his cowardice, and the words were just as empty and meaningless as ever. Despite his frantic claims to the contrary, he'd meant every word that he'd said; the problem was that he had not the courage to back them up. It was, in a word, disgusting, and I said so, scathingly, as I released him.

As I watched Starscream sit up slowly and rub at the side of his head, I began to think about what had just transpired. I doubted that Starscream had it within him to face me so boldly on his own, that he would never have attempted to do so without some significant…encouragement. I glanced over at Soundwave as an idea formed in my head. But before I could discuss my germ of a plan with Soundwave, I needed to be rid of Starscream…for the moment.

"Stand up, Starscream," I commanded calmly, and he immediately complied. "I have some important business to conduct with Soundwave. You, in the mean time, will confine yourself to your quarters until I arrive there. And then we shall…discuss this recent development in your behavior."

A look of absolute horror crossed Starscream's face for a fleeting moment before he quickly looked away from me, as if he thought that then I wouldn't know he was afraid of me. But of course I knew that he was afraid of me. I had always given him every reason to obey me, after all, and fear of me was one of the strongest of those inducements.

"Yes, Megatron," was all that Starscream said, mumbling the words, still avoiding my gaze.

I studied Starscream for a moment. That he was hiding something was suddenly so obvious to me that I couldn't believe that I had never noticed it before. But I was confident that whatever the secret was, it would soon be revealed to me. One way or another.

"Go!" I shouted at Starscream when he seemed to be hesitating instead of immediately obeying my order, and he scurried out the door without saying another word to me or to anyone else.

For some reason, I looked over to where Thundercracker had been sitting. He was back in his chair again, and he was hunched over the terminal, his hand wearily cupping his forehead. Skywarp had moved to stand right next to him. He was still poking studiously at his datapad, but now he was standing so close to Thundercracker that his left wing created a protective wall, shielding Thundercracker's back.

I chuckled to myself in deep satisfaction as I exited the bridge, Soundwave at my side. As the doors swooshed closed behind me, I reflected that, if nothing else, the whole production had been a good object lesson for _all_ those who had been present on the bridge.

And as for Starscream…Well, for me the best part was yet to come, indeed…


	15. Chapter 14

**_"No! Don't come near me, you monster!"_**  
_Starscream in "Child's Play _

There it was.

It was quiet at first. Deceptively quiet. _Obscenely_ quiet. No one else, probably, would have noticed it or paid it any mind at all. I, however, had become uniquely conditioned to hear it, no matter how faint, no matter how far away. More than that, it was the sound that I had been waiting for, although certainly not with any kind of happy anticipation. I had _known_ that I would eventually hear the sound, but that didn't stop me from hoping that by some miraculous twist of fate I'd been forgotten or that I'd been granted, for whatever reason, a reprieve, or that he'd become distracted by something else. But there were never any such miracles in store for Starscream, and so there it was.

It was a sound I had grown to hate more than any other in the universe, and it was increasing in volume as it slowly but inexorably drew nearer to my quarters. With each dull, reverberating thud, the echoes of imminent, inevitable pain, of violation and humiliation, wafted down the corridor, propagated through the very walls and floors. They seeped into my quarters and pounded against my audios like a savage, ritualistic drumbeat, one that insistently worked its way into my very being, refusing to be dislodged.

The sound was the sound of Megatron's approaching footsteps as he moved purposely down the corridor, toward my quarters.

Exactly four hours, twenty-two minutes, and thirteen-point-eight seconds elapsed between the moment that Megatron, in a rage, had banished me to my quarters and the moment that I heard that first faint footstep as Megatron had stepped off the elevator and into the long corridor that ran outside my door. I was sitting where I always sat when I was waiting for Megatron to arrive, at a small table situated directly across the room from the door to my quarters. My back, as always, was toward the door. I never wanted to see him enter the room, after all.

I had been trying to use those four hours constructively. As always, I was trying to shore up my mental defenses in preparation for the nightmare that I knew was heading my way, that always, inevitably, headed my way. As always, I sat in complete darkness, cloaking myself in it, wrapping myself in its comforting arms. The darkness was…soothing, for one thing. And, for another, I didn't really want to see the room in which I was sitting. It was Spartan, unwelcoming, unlived-in. Dispersed amongst the old scorch marks and scratches on the walls were the shinier, newer patches that had replaced the ones that had been deeply dented when my airborne body had slammed into them before crashing in a shuddering, ignominious heap to the floor. Those were the things that I wasn't particularly interested in seeing. Under normal day-to-day circumstances, I didn't notice those little features of my quarters; I was just like anyone else in that I didn't really notice tiny details that were simply there all the time, that were a mundane part of my existence. I took them for granted, like probably everyone else would.

But these were not normal circumstances and I am not exactly like everyone else. And during those times when I was waiting for Megatron to swoop down upon me like one of the avenging Furies out of Greek myth, I realized that the story of the relationship between Megatron and me was all there, etched into the walls that were slowly suffocating me. It was all around me, all the time, inescapable. It was literally the writing on the wall, and at the moment…I didn't want to see it. No, what I needed to do right at that moment was to concentrate. Such focused, determined concentration was, at times, all that separated me from the murky yet seductive depths of complete insanity. And sometimes…Sometimes, it was all that kept me alive. I was well aware of that fact.

So, I sat in the quiet, currently-peaceful blackness of my quarters. My body was hunched over. My elbows were resting on the table in front of me, and my hands were clutching at both sides of my head as if I thought it would fly apart if my grip on it slipped for even an instant. My thoughts as I sat there, waiting…waiting…were turned entirely inward. I was concentrating…focusing…collecting my wits as best I could so that I could face what was to come. But most of all, I was concentrating on clearing my mind of any thoughts of Skyfire and especially of our recent meeting.

That process took much longer than I thought it would. I hadn't realized just how deep of an…imprint being with Skyfire had left on me this time. I knew, though, that I was starting, ever so slowly, to see things differently. I was beginning to know where I belonged. And I was beginning to feel a flowering of self-confidence, the likes of which I hadn't felt in…well, in a very long time, indeed. It had burst into full bloom, unfortunately, those four hours ago. And I knew that Megatron could – and would – instantly detect those sorts of feelings and the changes that they were beginning to forge in me…and then he might possibly link them to Skyfire…and of course I couldn't let that happen. I had to protect him. I had to protect _us_. So that was the focus of my efforts now. I was working on constructing a thick, protective wall around Skyfire and my memories of and emotions about him. I knew that I could succeed in the effort because I had become, over the years, very good at building such walls. In fact, I had been doing it unconsciously for so long now that it had become an ingrained part of my identity.

Starscream was all about walls, indeed.

And I was confident that Megatron wouldn't be able to see through my defenses, too. And besides that, as I sat there preparing for his arrival I honestly didn't think he'd really _care_ much about what I might be hiding, anyway. He rarely expressed any genuine interest in – much less concern for – me and my well-being or for what I might be thinking about during these unpleasant…episodes…of ours. In fact, he didn't seem to care about _me_ at all. All he really wanted to do, it seemed, was to use me as an outlet, to vent his various frustrations upon me. And then after that, he usually wanted to bond, as if he'd drained from himself everything that he was during that venting and he needed to fill himself back up by sucking the very life out of me.

And it _had_ been a while since our last bonding, so I'd known, somewhere within me, that he'd be needing me in that way very soon. It was inevitable, an immutable fact of my life. Still, I couldn't help wishing that Megatron wouldn't _take_ so much out of me when we bonded. When the bond experience was added to the physical torture that Megatron had slowly, over the past year or so, taken to inflicting upon me and that he seemed to enjoy… Well, after all that, there usually wasn't much left of _me_. I shuddered at the prospect of having to go through it all again, at the prospect of spending, indeed, the rest of my life enduring that sort of thing on a regular basis. I knew there was nothing that I could do about it, of course, that it was my well-deserved lot in life…but that didn't take away even the smallest iota of the dread that overcame me every single time that one of these sessions was looming on the horizon.

But I knew that I couldn't dwell on that, certainly not now. All that I had time to do before Megatron finally arrived was to reaffirm to myself that I was a survivor. I inwardly swore that _someday_ I would stand up to Megatron, that _someday_ I'd be stronger, that _someday_ I would be the one in control of the situation, not him. _Someday_, yes…

…But not today.

The footsteps stopped just as I realized and fully acknowledged that today would not be the day that I'd stand up to Megatron. I knew that Megatron was standing in front of my quarters, just on the other side of the door. He always stood there in that precise spot for a moment or two before he entered my quarters, waiting. Megatron knew that I would know that he was there. He knew that I'd be dreading his arrival, and _I_ knew that he wanted to prolong that dread as long as he possibly could. It was all a part of the game, it seemed, a game that Megatron lived for and that was completely out of my control. And I might have been imagining it, but it seemed to me as if Megatron waited just a little longer each time before entering my quarters. Each time, I had to endure a little longer the frantic pounding of my energon pump, the horrible, gnawing fear that took hold of my spark in a cold, iron grip at the moment when I first heard his footsteps in the corridor and that crescendoed as he stood there, just outside my door. But finally – Mercifully, in an odd sort of way – I heard the buttons on the computer lock on my door being punched in a long, complicated combination.

I had spent the past four hours coaching myself, preparing my thoughts, and planning my words so that _maybe_ I could endure what was to come just one more time. I went through the same routine each time one of these…experiences…was looming in my immediate future, and every time I would forget just how unpredictable Megatron could be when he set his mind to it. I would forget how he seemed to know _exactly_ how to tailor every one of these sessions so that it would smash through my carefully-constructed defenses in the most ruthlessly efficient manner possible.

I heard the door swoosh open behind me. I saw the dull splash of light wash over the wall in front of me, saw Megatron's shadow on the wall, and then I heard him walk into my quarters, the doors quietly swooshing shut in his wake after he'd passed through them. My hands tightened into fists as the lights came on, which was, of course, always the first thing that Megatron did when he entered my quarters. I stared at my fists and inwardly cringed as I waited for the first cannon blast to burn a hole through my back. But none came. Instead, I heard the familiar sound of metal sliding quietly against metal as Megatron removed the fusion cannon from his arm and set it – lovingly, no doubt – on the floor. My body relaxed a bit with relief, as I realized that, at least _this_ time, I wasn't going to be blasted with that awful thing. After all, _nothing_ hurt worse or took longer to heal than a fusion burn.

Or so I thought, anyway…

I continued to sit quietly, staring intently at my fists on the tabletop as Megatron approached me from behind. I tensed again, anticipating some kind of violent action on his part and some kind of painful sensation on mine. But again, neither of those things materialized. Instead, I jerked slightly and winced as I felt Megatron's hand touch the top edge of my right wing. But to my utter confusion and surprise, there was no pain at all. In fact, Megatron was…_caressing_ me. I felt his fingers gently trace along the edge of my wing, out to the tip, and then slowly move back again. He did this over and over again before he actually spoke to me.

"Why have you been behaving this way, Starscream?" Megatron finally asked.

The deep, gravelly voice was familiar, yes, but the tone of it and the behavior that Megatron was displaying were _not _familiar at all He wasn't yelling at me. His voice did not even quiver with the much rarer, restrained, quiet fury that would sometimes consume him and that I knew, from experience, was actually a harbinger of extreme pain for me. And his question wasn't an accusatory one, either. It was merely…a curious one. In fact, Megatron sounded like someone who actually…cared. And, on top of that, I _really_ hadn't been expecting any sort of physical affection from him. That hadn't been a part of our relationship for…a very long time, indeed. So, as Megatron continued to stroke the tops of my wings, now using both hands, one on each wing, my shoulders reflexively – and against my will – relaxed. Megatron's completely unexpected gentle ministrations were beginning to distract me.

_Keep your focus!_ I sternly reminded myself. _He's playing games with you, just like he _always_ does. Don't let him get to you so easily, fool!_

So, with that thought in mind, I set my jaw and continued to stare down at the table in front of me…but it was a difficult front to maintain. It had been so long since he had shown me any sort of affection like this. So long…

"What 'way?'" I eventually asked, trying to sound both angry and in control of the situation. But I could already feel myself wavering, on both counts.

Megatron didn't answer me for a moment. He just continued to stroke the edges of my wings. But eventually he leaned over my shoulder and spoke slowly and softly into my audios.

"I can feel that you've been defying me through our bond, my dear Starscream," Megatron whispered. There was a certain unidentifiable edge to his voice. There was a tinge of something that seemed affectionate, but that tinge was almost drowned out by…something else. Something I couldn't quite put a finger on… "I want to know why you're doing that." When I didn't answer, however, Megatron slowly moved around to my side and knelt down on one knee next to my chair. "Look at me."

The gentleness of his voice was confusing. His lack of violence was even more confusing. So, as if not of my own volition, I swiveled the chair around so that I faced him.

Megatron looked calm and composed. He even smiled slightly when I turned toward him. I couldn't understand why he appeared so serene when, judging by his reactions to similar things I'd done in the past, he _should_ be in a fuming, tearing rage. In fact, he _should_ have already been tossing me around the room, and I should have been screaming for all I was worth, begging him to stop. Instead, he was looking at me like a doting human father looks upon his infant child. In return, I regarded him with my head tilted slightly, inquisitively, to the side for a long moment. I didn't speak, though, so Megatron apparently felt that he needed to fill the silence.

"You've always argued with me, Starscream," he said quietly. "That's nothing new. But today you did something you've never done before. You…resisted me…through the very thing that keeps us united."

The tone of his voice sounded almost…wounded. Betrayed, even. But I couldn't tell if it was genuine or if it was merely the latest ploy that he had devised to make me feel guilty, which was a common tactic of his. Whatever the case, he leaned closer to me, and trailed the fingers of both hands up the length of each of my forearms, and then my upper arms, and then he began toying absently with the mount of the laser rifle at each of my shoulders. He was so physically close to me, almost embracing me… It was something that he almost _never_ allowed, and I was, at that moment, completely tempted to reach out and touch him in a similar manner…but I knew, on a more alert and warier level, that to do so was to tempt fate, and that wasn't something that I wanted to do, not now that he wasn't doing horrible things to me. Not now that he was touching me as one touches someone whom one cares about, whom one loves. Not now that he was looking at me not with fury or scorn, but with a slightly-smiling, wholly benign, and almost…affectionate curiosity.

My thoughts were becoming more muddled by the minute. With all that I was, I had been preparing myself for Megatron to behave as he normally behaved…only to have him arrive on my doorstep displaying the exact opposite demeanor. So, I was confused, and I was becoming more confused with every second that passed…yet I couldn't help but enjoy the physical contact, the affection. Both were things that I craved more than almost anything in the universe, especially from Megatron. And it had been so long since I'd had any of that from him…

"Something has changed, my Starscream," Megatron was continuing softly, as he gently massaged my shoulders, his voice now a soft, almost seductive, purr, "and I need to know what it is."

I pulled in a deep breath before I answered, one that despite my best efforts to keep it steady and indifferent shuddered as much as I was internally shuddering. I said the first thing that came to mind, which was all that I could think of to say.

"I…I'm not sure what to say," I said, and my voice shuddered, too, which was thoroughly damning evidence of the inturnal turmoil that I was experiencing, that I had been wanting to keep to myself. And what I'd said was the truth, too, because I really did have absolutely no idea what to say at that moment. I knew I couldn't tell Megatron about Skyfire…but my ingrained loyalty to Megatron and the thoroughly unexpected affection that he was bestowing upon me were beginning to shake the foundations of those mental defenses of mine.

"You can start by telling me where it is that you've been running off to lately," Megatron was saying softly but firmly. And then he ran his hands slowly down my chest. They came to rest on both sides of my waist seconds before he tipped his own head forward so that it rested against my chest. I could feel him touching our bond, searching my soul through it, looking for the answers he wanted. "Show me, Starscream. Show me where…"

And at that moment… At that moment, I wanted _nothing_ more than to curl up in his powerful arms and tell him everything. Megatron was treating me just as he used to treat me when we first became bondmates so long ago, and I missed that _so_ much. I wanted to reach out and touch him and just hold him close to me and have him take away the pain of Skyfire and everything associated with Skyfire. But touching Megatron in that way likely would've triggered his anger, and I didn't want to ruin the moment. So, I obediently kept my hands at my sides and just tried to absorb his closeness.

And in the process, I let my mind drift dangerously…

And suddenly, an image of Skyfire's island appeared in my mind. It was a memory of me standing on the beach, looking at the terrain and then out over the ocean. The shock of seeing the unexpected mental picture so clearly made me gasp and jump slightly in my seat. Megatron, of course, immediately straightened his back and smiled up at me.

"An island… You've been escaping to a remote island. Nothing to fear in that." He reached up and cupped my face in his hand, and gently stroked my cheek with his thumb. "Now tell me what makes this island so special."

My defenses were crumbling. I had already revealed to him the kind of place I had been sneaking off to, and now he was searching for the _reason_ I had chosen that place, specifically.

_He mustn't know about Skyfire!_ I yelled into my head. _Fight it off! Keep your focus, you idiot! _

But I couldn't keep my focus. I could easily fight Megatron's probing when he was angry, when he was hitting me or throwing me around the room, but this…I was not prepared for this kind of treatment, and although I was clawing desperately at the rope of my concentration, determined not to reveal everything that had been happening between Skyfire and me, I could feel my grip on that rope becoming looser. I could feel myself slipping down, inch by inch, as more images of the island kept flashing through my head, only now some of Skyfire's medical equipment was visible. At the same time that I was enjoying the demonstrative attentions Megatron was bestowing upon me, a deep and sickening fear began to wind its way into the very pit of my core, beginning to constrict it like a giant python. Something was wrong. Something was _very_ wrong…but I couldn't think clearly enough to pin down that vague feeling of wrongness that was beginning to gnaw at me.

It occurred to me, vaguely, from some unconscious part of my mind that if I answered his question, perhaps he'd stop probing around for the answer deep inside of me. Maybe a glib, vague answer would be enough, and he'd be happy with me. So I tried it. I had very little left to lose, it seemed…

"Um…there's nothing…nothing really special about the island itself," I stammered. "It's just a quiet, uninhabited place where I can get away and think."

It was a good answer, too. In the past, I'd often leave the base to find some isolated place where I could be alone. Megatron knew that, of course. I hoped that, now, it would be a satisfactory answer and that he would then drop the entire subject.

"Hmmm… Uninhabited, you say," Megatron murmured, releasing his tender grip on my face in order to stroke his own chin in an exaggeratedly thoughtful manner. "Uninhabited…" he repeated, cocking his head to one side and studying my face quizzically. "Yet, when you return from this 'uninhabited' island of yours, all of your damage has been miraculously repaired, even that which would be impossible for you to fix yourself…"

With that observation of Megatron's, my fear began turning to panic rather quickly. I knew, suddenly, that he was going to figure it all out, and I knew, too, that there was nothing I could do about it. As usual, there was no place for me to run. I was trapped. If he found out about Skyfire, Megatron would probably kill him, and I wasn't sure if I could live with that. True, a perverse part of me actually _wanted_ Skyfire to disappear, even if it meant his death. After all, with Skyfire safely gone again, things between Megatron and me would return to normal and everything would be just like it was before we had found him in the Arctic. But the other part of me couldn't bear the thought of losing Skyfire again. Losing him the first time had destroyed me, after all… And I didn't even want to _think_ of the things that Megatron might do to Skyfire _before_ he killed him. They were, after all, partial bondmates through me, although Megatron was for the moment ignorant of that fact. If he were _not_ ignorant of that fact, though, then he'd certainly use the knowledge to his own…advantage. So, I fully intended to keep Megatron ignorant.

I looked down then, only to see that Megatron was staring intently at my face, his expression uncomfortably intense. He was studying me, reading my body language and my facial expressions as easily as a human would read a book. His gaze bored into me as if he thought he might be able to pierce my metal skin and see the secrets kept deep within my spark.

"You're hiding something from me, Starscream," Megatron announced, his voice still oddly soft and gentle. "You don't have to hide things from me. We've been together too long for you to keep any secrets from me… " Still kneeling in front of me, he drew close to me again. Reaching out to me again, he took my hand in his and raised it so that he could press the back of my hand into his own angular cheek. "Open yourself up to me," he whispered seductively. "Don't be afraid."

I was completely stunned by Megatron's words and by his behavior. Not only was he being uncharacteristically gentle, quiet, and…kind, but he was also allowing me to touch his face. True, he was holding my hand there so that he maintained control…but still, he had not permitted this kind of contact since we'd left Cybertron. And I was _so_ hungry for this kind attention from him. He was giving, in his own cautious, controlled way, a little bit of himself to me, and I wanted to savor that moment, for I knew that it wouldn't last long. But…

Megatron was asking me to open up. And I _couldn't _tell him about Skyfire…could I? No, I decided that I could give him everything else, _everything_ inside me, especially if he were to treat me like this from now on, but I would not give him any information about Skyfire and about the relationship that existed between us. It would, I decided, only serve to infuriate him…

Yet, on the other hand, I…loved Megatron and didn't have any real desire to keep secrets from him. I always had loved him and always did love him, even when we fought viciously, even when he was inflicting pain upon me. I supposed that it was similar to my feelings about Skyfire: There was a part of me that wanted Megatron dead, and at the same time, there was a part of me that simply couldn't live without him. It was a dichotomy that I found I couldn't reconcile…so I chose not to do so. I put it aside and returned my attention to the situation at hand. My attention drifted back to my hand, which was still pressed against Megatron's smooth, gray face. The corner of his mouth slowly drifted up into a small smile as he watched me deliberate. Voices…thoughts…whispered in my mind as I watched him watching me.

_Megatron… You are bonded to Megatron. You owe him your life. Everything._

I couldn't tell if the thoughts drifting across my consciousness were mine or Megatron's. Everything was becoming confused. I couldn't think straight…

_Hold on! Don't let go!_ I sternly told myself. _Don't give in! Don't let him trick you like this! _

_You owe him, _that first voice whispered back._ Your defenses are useless, a waste of time. You will tell him._

_I…can't. _

_Oh, but you _will_… _

_Skyfire… _

Obligingly, an image of a wall of white overwhelmed my mind. An image of a large, curved, white shoulder flashed through my head…then a cockpit window…then a red stripe…

_Oh, Primus! No! _

I realized in that instant that Megatron had succeeded in breaking through the emotional barriers I had so carefully constructed around my recent memories of Skyfire, that now everything in my mind was obtainable to him if he but chose to probe around a little. All he had to do was poke around in my soul a little bit, and he'd find everything that he wanted to know. So I simultaneously realized that I needed something that would distract _both_ of us, and I needed it fast. But crushing waves of panic were, at the moment, drowning out all logical reasoning, and so in my desperation I seized and acted upon the first course of action that came to my mind…

Tearing my hand out of Megatron's grip, I wrapped both my arms around his neck and insistently pulled his face up to mine. And then I pressed my lips firmly against his, just like I'd seen the humans do in their silly movies. It all happened so quickly, within the span of a few moments, that Megatron was taken completely by surprise. He didn't react at all for a few precious moments, except to stiffen in my grasp, so I held on to him tightly and focused all my energies and all my attention on that kiss.

And…Oh, but it felt _good_. For the first time in our multi-million year relationship, _I _had taken the initiative. _I _had the upper hand. _I_ was forcing my will on _Megatron,_ instead of the other way aroundThe momentary feeling of power as it coursed through my body and consciousness was the most euphoric and potentially addictive sensation that I had ever experienced. It was something that I knew I'd never forget…

…And it lasted all of three seconds.

I knew I was going to pay dearly for such a bold invasion of Megatron's personal space, but I had to do _something_ to keep him from discovering the truth about Skyfire. And it _did_ work.

But, as I was to find out shortly, it had also been a complete waste of time…

"Mmm-fff-mm!" Megatron protested, his voice muffled by my mouth, as he recovered from the initial shock of being forcefully kissed. He tried to pull away, but I kept my arms tightly locked around his helmet and my lips steadfastly planted on his. It was a battle of wills more than anything else, but finally, inevitably, I lost that battle. With both arms, Megatron pushed on my chest with all his strength, which sent me tumbling backwards off the chair, abruptly breaking the embrace. I came to rest next to the wall with all the scratches, dents and scorch marks imbedded in it.

And I knew what was coming next.

"Starscream!" Megatron bellowed, his voice no longer gentle or silkily persuasive. "What the _hell_ do you think you're _doing_?!" he demanded. "Have you completely lost your mind?!" He stood up then and stomped angrily toward me, nearly hysterical with rage while I huddled on the floor with my back against the wall and my arms over my head, waiting for the inevitable. "How _dare_ you perform such a repulsive human ritual on me? You odious piece of scrap! Whatever compelled you to—"

Curiosity got the better of me and, uncoiling from my cringing position, I looked up at Megatron in the sudden silence that followed his abruptly-halted tirade. He was standing over me, his narrowed optics staring down at me, glowing a furious, hellish red. I could tell that he was thinking about something…

"Heh-hehhh," Megatron chuckled deep in his throat after a moment, as he stared at me, at the expression on my face that had to have communicated to him my utter, panicked terror. But then he turned around and calmly walked back toward the chair I had been sitting on moments ago.

Again, I was bewildered at Megatron's strange behavior as I watched him walk away from me. What, I wondered, was going on? Why was he not trying to tear me limb from limb? Or had he already done so and I had just blocked out the whole experience, as I often did…? I ran a quick internal diagnostic, but it showed nothing out of the ordinary. No internal damage, no external gashes spewing out uncomfortably large amounts of energon, no anything. So, I slowly stood up, temporarily leaning against the wall behind me for support, and looked around the room. I confirmed that everything looked the same as it had looked a moment before. I didn't appear to be missing a block of time in my memory…

I glared across the room at Megatron as he stood there, calmly watching me, smiling an infuriating little smile before he righted the chair that had been mine and sat down on it with a long sigh…and a contented, self-satisfied grin on his face. Oh, I hated it when Megatron played these kinds of mind games with me. If nothing else, they made me question my own sanity…

"Ahhhh, my dear little Starscream…" he said after a moment of smiling at me while I continued to glare at him. His voice was practically dripping with condescension, and then he scowled at me, his expression changing in an instant from benign amusement to entirely unamused irritation. Folding his arms contemptuously across his broad, gleaming chest, as spat at me, "When _will_ you learn that your asinine tricks will never work on me? I will _always_ be one step ahead of you, Starscream. Always."

And as he spoke those words, Megatron looked up at me as if I should know _exactly_ what he was talking about. But, as usual, he was making absolutely no sense to me whatsoever. I decided to try the most obvious tactic and then work my way from there…

"Tricks, Megatron?" I echoed, bewildered. I was going for an innocent tone, of course, trying not to let my voice squeak out of fear, and I actually managed to succeed at that, more or less. "I wasn't trying to play any tricks on you. At least, I don't think—"

"Oh, _spare_ me the innocent, naïve act, Starscream," Megatron interrupted roughly. "Your futile attempt at distraction was a complete waste of time."

Megatron was glowering accusingly at me as he spat those words at me…and I began to have that awful sinking feeling again. Panic was beginning to envelop my thought processes, and a terrible yet very familiar dread began to invade my senses as he continued to speak.

"A little over four hours ago," he said, his voice nonchalant, as if he was talking about some particularly pleasant weather phenomenon, "I sent Ravage on a little mission to Autobot Headquarters. It wasn't until today, you see, that I realized that there had to be a connection between your disappearances and your recent…attitude adjustment. I had a vague idea, but no real proof."

For a moment, Megatron paused to look at me. He stared expectantly at me, as if he knew that I was going to say something. But no words came to me. No words came to me, at least, that wouldn't simply serve to trigger his temper. Ultimately, I knew that there was, in the end, nothing I could say in my defense because Megatron, of course, was absolutely correct… Megatron, however, seemed disappointed with my lack of response. He scowled at me again, his lips downturned in a sneer of disgust…and then he nonchalantly opened up a small compartment in his left forearm, withdrawing a small object from it. It was a fine surgical laser, and I instantly recognized it, naturally, for it had been used on me several times before. In response to seeing it, my breath quickened and I wanted nothing more than to back slowly away from Megatron, as if that might somehow ward off what I knew, now, was in store for me. But there was a wall behind me that prevented my retreat.

And besides, there was nowhere, really, to run…

Megatron, meanwhile, was continuing to speak in that same unnaturally calm, even voice.

"It was a simple enough task for Ravage to sneak into Autobot Headquarters and access the Autobots' duty rosters for the past three months," he calmly informed me as he casually clipped the laser to his right fist with a click that sickened me, that seemed to echo for an unnaturally long moment off the walls of my quarters. "That, in itself, is not considered high security information, so Teletran was not alarmed at the request. But it gave _me_ exactly the information I needed. And what do you think that information might have been, Starscream?"

Obviously not expecting an answer – which was good because I certainly didn't have one; the sound of my world crashing around me was loud enough to drown out all rational thought – Megatron looked up at me with an almost beatific smile on his face. It lasted for only a few breaths, though, before he looked down at his hand again. Almost fondly, he ran one finger up and down the length of the cutting laser that was now attached to the knuckle of one finger of his hand. Watching him, my entire body shuddered in the grip of a deep and growing terror. I hoped that Megatron wouldn't see it…and apparently, he didn't, as intent upon torturing me with this endless talking as he seemed to be.

"It seems that there is one Autobot who is conspicuously absent from the muster," Megatron explained calmly, no doubt enjoying watching me squirm. "And what a coincidence that his absence began at _just_ about the same time you started making getaway trips to this mysterious 'uninhabited' island of yours. Imagine that, eh Starscream?"

But I was tired of playing the game. Megatron knew, and I knew that he knew. Pulling the tattered cloak of my dignity around myself, I stood up a little straighter, deciding to face the inevitable with as much stoicism as I could.

"So…You knew?" I said flatly. "Before you came here?"

At that, Megatron spat out a humorless, scathing laugh.

"About Skyfire? Primus, Starscream, how dense can you possibly be? Of _course_ I knew about Skyfire! When Ravage gave me his report exactly…forty-eight minutes ago, my suspicions were confirmed." He glared at me, then, with a glare colder than the farthest reaches of outer space, that froze me and sent shivers racing through my entire body as Megatron added, speaking slowly and precisely, "You've been secretly collaborating with Skyfire, a _known traitor_ to the Decepticon cause. Haven't you?! Admit it!"

"N—No, Megatron! It's not what you think! I would never divulge crucial information to the en—"

My words were cut off when Megatron began to move quickly and soundlessly toward me, like a shadow across water, and then… One of his fists lashed out so quickly that I didn't see it happen, didn't realize that anything at all had happened until the canopy in the center of my chest obligingly shattered on impact, the surprise of it all abruptly cutting off my words. It wasn't, of course, the first time he'd done such a thing and, as usual, shards of the canopy fell to the floor as if in extreme slow motion. I fancied, as I stood there frozen, caught in that precarious place that lurks between surprise and agony, that I could hear every tiny sliver of it as it hit the floor, tinkling almost cheerfully in the momentary silence. But then…Then, the agony took over.

My scream of pain almost but not quite drowned out Megatron as he bellowed, fully enraged now, "You _lie_, Starscream!"

And with that, as pain and fear weakened my knees and my resolve to try to remain calm in the face of everything that was happening, I collapsed to the floor. Reflexively, I put my arms up over my head, protecting it from Megatron's next blow. All the while, as I cringed before him, I yelled desperately, pleadingly, "But Skyfire's not the enemy! Please, Megatron, I'm telling the truth. I _am_ loyal to you. I am! I promise! Skyfire's not an Autobot anymore. He left them! He has nothing to do with them! I _swear_!"

But Megatron, apparently, wasn't impressed with my protestations. Instead of listening to me, he grabbed me by the shoulders, lifted me to a standing position, and then slammed my back against the wall behind me. The impact was powerful enough to rattle every microcircuit in my body and to make my vision go temporarily dim. I shook my head to fend off the latter. I knew that I needed all my senses about me for as long as I possibly could keep them about me…

"I don't care _what_ he is!" Megatron was yelling in my face, meanwhile. "If Skyfire is not a Decepticon, _then he ismy enemy_!"

He glared at me for a long time after that, his eyes boring into mine as he held me pinned against the wall. But then, abruptly, his fury seemed to drain from him. His grip on me loosened a little, enough so that I found myself standing on my own feet rather than being pinned to the wall. Megatron, for a moment, was quiet, thinking. I knew, however, that that probably wasn't good news for me…

"Tell me why you've been meeting with Skyfire," Megatron finally asked of me, after a moment that seemed like hours.

His voice was quiet, oddly undemanding…but what he'd asked was not, of course, a request. It was an order that had to be obeyed…or else.

"He was…a good friend of mine…back on Cybertron," I stammered, trying to keep my voice level, trying desperately not to let slip _all_ that Skyfire was to me. "We were explorers before the war. I…I told you the truth, Megatron. I told you all this when we found him in the Arctic. You remember, don't you?"

At that, Megatron smiled a smile that on the one hand looked understanding, even compassionate. But I knew, after millions of years of exposure to it, how his mind tended to work. I knew that the outward appearance of that smile was likely deceiving, and that the wheels were turning in his mind…and that he was coming to a conclusion that I dreaded. He leaned in close to me then, pressing his chest against mine. Reaching up, he ran one finger along the edge of my helmet. The gesture was a gentle one. To an outside observer, it might have even seemed an affectionate gesture. From Megatron, however, the gesture was not affection at all, but…something else entirely. It was probing. Possessive.

"Oh, yes," Megatron was saying slowly, speaking in that calm, rough-yet-seductive voice that he could so easily summon whenever he deemed it prudent to do so. "Yes, I remember that well. And Skyfire must be a very good _friend_, indeed, Starscream. After all, he gave up a promising career in the Autobot ranks just to sit on a deserted beach somewhere and wait for _you_ to arrive so that he could repair your damage." He paused then, tracing one finger along the various seams of my helmet in a way that would have been loving had the touch been coming from anyone but Megatron, before concluding, "And I must say that he does a _fine_ job of repairing you, too. This…This is the work of someone who cares a _great deal_ for the one he's repairing."

I winced then. It was reflex. I jerked my head away from Megatron's probing fingers. Which was, of course the wrong thing to do because Megatron then scowled at my impudence and clamped his hand insistently around my jaw. After that, he slammed the back of my head forcefully against the wall behind me, pinning it uncomfortably.

"We were…close friends," I managed to choke out after gasping in surprise. I hoped that the answer would satisfy him. But of course it didn't satisfy Megatron at all. In fact, his hand moved from my jaw down to my throat, which he proceeded to squeeze with all his considerable might.

"He was the one, wasn't he, Starscream?" Megatron whispered scornfully while I struggled, choking and sputtering, in his grasp. "_He_ was the one you were mourning when we first met. You eventually told me that your bondmate had died. But of course he _didn't_ die. Did he, Starscream?"

"But I _thought_ he was dead!" I managed to protest desperately as I pushed with both hands against his in order to prevent him from choking the life out of me.

I said it without thinking, in pure desperation, before I realized what it was that I'd just confirmed for Megatron. So, after spewing out that damning claim, I clamped my mouth shut…for a moment, at least. But after that moment, I felt compelled to…explain, to try to undo some of the damage I'd just done, in the vain hope that my explanations would somehow fend off the inevitable. And Megatron, as if he knew that I was about to more deeply dig my own grave, obligingly loosened his grip on my throat a little, so that I could get on with damning myself.

"Or at least I thought Skyfire was lost forever," I proclaimed hurriedly, desperately…and truthfully, ironically enough. "I didn't…didn't really know _what_ had happened to him, Megatron. I swear it! All I knew was that I wasn't expecting to see him again. Ever."

At that, Megatron's mouth curled itself into a sneer of sheer disgust. After slamming me against the wall one more time for good measure, he released his grip on me and took one disdainful step backward, away from me. My knees gave out on me as he stepped away, and I sank down so that I was huddled on the floor against the wall, gasping for breath. Megatron silently glared down at me, but his silence, of course, didn't last long…

"So you _are_ bonded to Skyfire, then!" he declared. "Which means that _I_ am now bonded to him, too. All this time…You kept it a secret all these years. You managed to keep it hidden from me somehow. _Why_ didn't you tell me about all this when we first found him, Starscream?"

I just stared up at Megatron for a long moment while he glared down at me like an angry and wrathful god. I knew that I was caught, I knew that I was in trouble, and I knew that I was going to pay for it. There was even a part of me that informed me that I deserved to be punished. Megatron was right, after all; I had kept a rather enormous secret from him, one that had resulted in a forced relationship with Skyfire, now. But of course there was also a self-preservative instinct that insisted that I try to do something…anything…to prevent what I knew was inevitable, judging by the look with which Megatron was spearing me at the moment. Fleetingly, it occurred to me that perhaps the truth would satisfy him. True, it had never satisfied him before – Often, it had just made him angrier with me – but perhaps this time it would work. So, I tried it. After all, I had very little left to lose.

"I was in shock," I said quietly, my voice rasping around my dented throat, as I gazed fearfully up at Megatron. "Completely in shock when I saw him. I _truly_ never expected to see him again, Megatron. And then, once we'd revived Skyfire…Well, he and I never really had a moment alone to talk, did we? But I was going to tell you, Megatron! I was, I swear! I mean, I knew that I had to tell you because I figured that Skyfire would become one of us, that he would be around all the time. But then…when Skyfire…defected, I figured it wasn't important anymore. He made a choice, and that choice didn't include me."

It was the truth. Every word that I spoke was the truth, as painful as it was. Megatron, however, seemed less than impressed with it. He just continued to glare down at me for a long moment. During that moment, I sat huddled pathetically against the wall, twitching with the pain that was still radiating from my shattered chest, my arms wrapped tightly around my own midsection as if that might protect me from any other exquisite little agonies that Megatron might wish to inflict upon me.

"'Not important?'' Megatron finally echoed, after what seemed like hours of staring angrily at me. His normally-rough voice was further choked with a deep outrage. "It's not important that you disappear for _days_ at a time in order to engage in secret meetings with him? It's not important that you betray me and the bond between us by consorting with him? It's not important that you've become increasingly defiant toward me ever since these meetings between you started?" Megatron leaned down then, so that he could stare demandingly, infuriated, into my eyes as he concluded, "If it was not so _important, _Starscream, then _why_ did you try so hard to keep it a secret from me for all these years?!"

"I didn't, Megatron! I mean…I did, but—"

"More lies!" Megatron interrupted, screaming into my face at a decibel level that made me cringe to my very core.

"I'm not lying!" I protested desperately. "I just—"

I didn't get to finish my protest, though, because suddenly I was airborne. I was being thrown across the room. It was, sadly, a familiar sensation, but even after dozens of similar trips, I still hadn't learned to be unsurprised when it happened. Nor had I learned to properly prepare myself for my eventual impact with a wall or with a piece of furniture. So, as usual, my trip to the other side of the room ended when my right shoulder and air intake slammed painfully into the far wall. I felt metal screech in protest, give way, and then crumple, and then I went crashing to the floor in an awkward heap of askew limbs. I tried to push my upper body up off the floor…but when I put weight on that crumpled shoulder, all I could do was let out a high-pitched yelp of pain and then fall pathetically, face first, back to the floor.

I could feel the vibrations of Megatron's footsteps on the deckplates as I lay there, trying to gather my strength, such as it was. I knew from the increasing intensity of the vibrations that Megatron was walking purposefully toward me…but I couldn't actually hear his footsteps. In fact, I couldn't hear anything at all. And I knew why, of course.

I was beginning to shut down. It was a reflex that automatically kicked in every time the beatings started. It was a defense mechanism, a way to separate myself from the pain that was soon to be inflicted on my body. When it happened, when I was fully detached from myself, I'd see everything in a blur. Time would lose its meaning. An hour or more would pass, but it would seem like mere seconds to me. I would see nothing, hear nothing, think nothing, and most importantly _feel_ nothing. So now, although I knew that Megatron was screaming at me, I couldn't hear his specific words, even though I would often yell back at him sometimes during these…episodes of ours. I could never remember, afterwards, exactly what I'd said, though. Likely, it mostly consisted of me begging him to listen to me, to give me a chance to explain. At least, that was what I always _wanted_ to do when these episodes started. I wanted the beating and the pain to stop, and I knew that if I could just explain things and if Megatron then accepted my explanation, then he'd stop.

But of course Megatron didn't listen, and he didn't stop. He never stopped.

And so it was this time, as well. Things…happened to me. Many things happened to me, in fact, although as always, I wasn't sure what, specifically, was going on. I only knew that whatever it was, I had no wish to be there for it. So, I busied myself with trying to direct my mind and my thoughts to a different place, a better place where there was no fear, no pain, no yelling, no mind games, no beatings, and no violation. There was only soft, comforting light and warmth and peace and an unnatural quiet that enveloped me and supported me, that blocked my vision, dulled my hearing, and that diverted pain impulses somewhere else.

And then there was the floor. And my hands… I was, suddenly, on my hands and knees, staring dully at the floor beneath me without really seeing it, my arms shuddering as they struggled to support my weight.

I was back. I could suddenly hear, see, and feel things again, so the beating must have finally ended. I had no idea how much time had passed, but I suspected that it had been quite a while, for I felt even more drained, physically, than I usually did after these episodes. Silently, carefully, I sat back on my heels, and as I tried to gather my wits and reorient myself as quickly as I could, the injured parts of my body began to wake up, each part eventually complaining, loudly, of its treatment. Ohhh, there was so much pain, and it was literally _everywhere_, some of it so intense that it wasn't really registering with me yet. Somehow, each one of these sessions seemed to be more prolonged and more damaging and more painful than the previous one. At least I was still in one piece this time…

Or so I thought. Then again, there seemed to be a small pool of spilled energon beginning to form around me that I dully realized was likely all mine…

But then even that realization was shoved out of my mind when a large black hand came out of nowhere and pushed so hard on my battered chest that I instantly flopped back to the floor, my back and the back of my head slamming roughly against the cold, hard deckplates. The impact obliterated all thoughts from my mind other than the realization that suddenly I was in more pain than I had been in before, even though I hadn't thought that possible. But, instead of yelling, I coughed as my back painfully slammed into the floor, and a spray of energon shot out of my mouth like the exhalation of a surfacing great whale. And then I felt tiny, cool droplets gently shower my face as gravity pulled the vaporized energon down.

I held on to that moment. In my mind, I willed it to last forever. I wanted just to lie there, feeling nothing but a cool mist on my face and the cool floor upon which I was lying. The moment lasted only a split second, but I _cherished_ that second. I lived in it for as long as I possibly could, treasuring every millisecond of peace and nothingness all the more because I knew precisely what was going to happen in the next second. And I dreaded it, dreaded it more than anything in the world.

Because my second of peace was eventually over, of course, and then I knew that it was time for the bonding. And I also knew that I wasn't able to shut down and detach, mentally, for that aspect of mine and Megatron's encounters. Megatron wouldn't let me. It vaguely occurred to me, as I lay there just before it all began, that bonding was supposed to be a wonderful, mutually-enjoyable thing, that one wasn't supposed to _want_ to shut down during such an activity, that one wasn't supposed to want to shield oneself from one's partner but rather that one was supposed to want to open up to him in every way possible…but I could no longer remember a time when I didn't want to shut down or when I actually wanted to open up. Not anymore… I desperately _wanted_ to remember those times when a bond had been a mutually wonderful experience but…I couldn't… Too much had happened since then, too many horrible things, and now I associated _all_ of those horrible things only with bonding.

"I will_ not_ share you, Starscream."

Megatron's gruff, impatient growl interrupted my thoughts. He was lying next to me, propped up on one elbow, in the process of opening the small, well-armored panel that protected his spark. I had already opened mine. I hadn't consciously thought about doing it, really. I just did it. A certain pattern had become ingrained in me, after all: First, the beating to break me, and then the bond so that Megatron could bask in the pain that wracked my body, could bask in the desolate brokenness of my soul, knowing that his was the power that had caused it all. And there was, I had slowly and painfully learned, no point in struggling against him because that only earned me more pain while giving him still more perverse, sadistic satisfaction. So, although I dreaded the whole bonding experience, I didn't fight it anymore. It didn't even occur to me to try fighting it. All that I could do was prepare myself as well as I could, prepare myself to survive it all one more time. Just one more time.

And I even tried to stay with Megatron – emotionally and mentally – as the bond began. I tried to give him what he wanted, mostly so that I could just be done with it. I tried every time to satisfy him…but every time something within me fought against it, in the way that my battered body couldn't fight against him physically. Every time, those stronger emotions and ever more intense sensations that Megatron wanted to evoke in me refused to rise to the occasion. And as this latest bond began, some part of me, as always, wished that it wasn't that way, wished that I could just resign myself mentally to the experience as easily I resigned myself to it physically, that I could just go with it and give Megatron what he needed without fighting or trying to hide myself away, so that it would just be over quickly, with a minimum amount of pain on my part. But I couldn't do that. I didn't know why I couldn't, but it seemed to be in my nature to resist even when I didn't consciously _want_ to resist, even when resisting just made things worse for me.

After all, the fact that I resisted giving Megatron what he wanted only meant that Megatron needed to use…creative…ways to make me submit to his demands and give him those more powerful emotions and sensations that he seemed to _need _for some reason that I still didn't fully understand. He needed so much, it seemed…and he gave so little. In fact, he gave nothing. With Megatron, it was all take, take, take.

Not that I really deserved to receive anything from him, of course… My suffering was my own fault. All my own fault. It was my "reward" for the inferior life that I led. It was all that I deserved…

"You succeeded in surprising me with that disgusting little example of human behavior, Starscream," Megatron was suddenly whispering into my audios, distracting me from my own thoughts.

All of the anger was gone from his voice as our sparks merged and he began to absorb the essence of who I was. His anger and frustration with me and with the universe in general had been purged, no doubt, during the beating. All that was left now was for him to reap the rewards of those efforts. Since he was joined with me now, he could easily sense my fear and my desire to hide away somewhere deep within myself while he had his way with me…and that actually pleased him because he knew that I _couldn't_ hide away from him, that he was in complete control of the situation, that he was free to take everything that I was from me and give nothing back to me in return.

"Humans do so many odd things," Megatron was continuing to babble. "All sorts of insipid, irrational things that seem to serve no purpose at all…"

I wasn't sure why Megatron was talking about humans, but I didn't really care. He would often drone on about one thing or another, mostly about the Autobots or my shortcomings, during the bonding. I, however, did not speak. I never spoke. I had to concentrate too hard on keeping my sanity from flying apart. I had to focus on shunting away from consciousness the pain, both physical and mental, and avoiding the terrible coldness that was Megatron's essence, that surrounded me during these 'unions' of ours, that gnawed at my spark like some feral beast. Besides, I knew that his babbling would eventually lead to something much, much worse, and I fancied that if I stayed quiet he might forget about those worse things, might forget that I was there at all, and just babble on forever…

He never did, though.

"Like crying, for example," Megatron was saying, his voice low and rather dangerously speculative.

It was then that I heard the small surgical laser that he'd attached to his knuckle earlier snap on. It hissed and spit every once in a while as it burned up the tiny dust particles that happened to be floating in the air around it. I felt myself begin to shake uncontrollably then, despite my best efforts to control myself. Megatron had used that laser on me before, of course, and I remembered _exactly_ what it felt like as it had sliced into various delicate and sensitive areas of my body. I was certainly not looking forward to feeling that sensation again…

"I wonder …" Megatron was still whispering, staring at me. "I wonder what it would be like for a _Transformer_ to cry…"

I noticed then that Megatron was looking at my eyes without really looking _into_ them. And, with a cruel grin on his face, he slowly brought his arm up and carefully aimed the laser just below my right eye… It snapped and crackled malevolently at me, filling my entire field of vision…and then Megatron began cutting.

My entire body jerked reflexively and I screamed so loudly that the whole base probably heard me, but I didn't care. The soft metal of my face was so pliable and so sensitive that to damage it even slightly was to experience excruciating pain. And this damage was…not slight. This damage was coldly calculated to produce the most pain in the most efficient manner. And it worked, too. All the dampened sensations and the mental hiding that I'd been concentrating on maintaining suddenly burst like a breached dam, sensations and emotions flowing out of me unchecked. They violently crashed their way through the bond and into Megatron, who responded to my pain with a long and deeply satisfied groan.

I could feel a small blob of energon well up from the cut below my eye and then run slowly across my cheek and down into my audio vents. I'm sure it looked very much like a Transformer equivalent of a human tear, which was what Megatron had been wanting, of course, although I couldn't begin to comprehend _why_ he had wanted such a thing. Whatever the reason he was doing it, though, I wanted nothing more than to beg him to stop…except that I knew it wouldn't do much good. He was too deeply into the bond, wholly focused on the powerful sensations that my pain awakened in him. So when the pain of the first cut had died down a little and my systems had begun to try to repair the damage, Megatron felt compelled to gouge another excruciating cut right next to the first one. And then another one next to that. And another. And another… And then he moved to the other side of my face and proceeded to do the same thing all over again.

With each cut I screamed louder than I had ever screamed in my life, until finally I reached a point where I had no voice left, no _feelings_ left. Further attempts on Megatron's part to inflict pain upon me seemed to have no effect because there was nothing left of me to feel it anymore and there was nothing and no one there to react to pain, either. So, there was nothing left for Megatron to take from me, either. And, solely because of that, he stopped what he was doing, disengaged the bond, and then promptly shut down for a quick recharge, no doubt overwhelmed by all that he had managed to wring out of me this time.

The bond was, mercifully, over.

Afterwards, I stayed awake and stared dully at the ceiling of my quarters, as I always did, not really seeing it, not really seeing anything. My energy, my mind, my spark…all of it was drained, empty. My entire body was twitching, and some of the twitches were powerful enough that one might legitimately call them convulsions. The gashes in my face continued to leak a good amount of energon. It spilled across my cheeks and down into my helmet vents. I imagined that the sensation was likely very similar to what a crying human would feel, except that I felt no accompanying emotion. And on top of it all, I was low on energy and, according to my diagnostics, I was leaking energon in many other places besides on my face. But I knew that the total damage was moderate overall and that it all could be repaired with a little time, patience, and skill. The idea, after all, was not to kill me but simply to put me in excruciating pain…

However, I _did_ need to shut down. I could feel my systems shouting at me to slip into repair stasis mode, but I fought it with all that I had left…which wasn't much, of course, but it was apparently enough to keep me conscious, for the moment. I always fought the urge to shut down after one of these bonding sessions. I wasn't sure why, but I knew that I _had _to stay awake and be conscious when Megatron came back online. Maybe it was because I always felt so…empty afterwards, so alone and abandoned, which was a feeling that, since I'd lost Skyfire, I could not tolerate at all. And, besides that, after a bond with Megatron, there was no longer any of _me_ left, so I needed Megatron to restore my identity, in a sense, to remind me of who I was and what I was supposed to be doing with my life.

After all, it was so easy for me to get…sidetracked, which would then make me forget the important things in life. In this case, I'd been sidetracked by Skyfire, and he had a tendency to make me forget, for a time, who I was. He tried to make me be who I used to be, which was not the same person… And as I lay there, staring at the ceiling without seeing it, lying on the cold floor of my quarters without feeling its chill seep into my being… As I lay there, all I could ask myself, despite everything, was how I could have been so stupid as to bring this all down on myself. All I could ask myself was how I could have betrayed Megatron after all that he'd done for me, after he had made me into the person I was. A person with power. A person with a purpose, a destiny. And I realized, as I lay there waiting for Megatron to regain consciousness, that I _deserved_ the pain that I was feeling and much more, that I deserved _all_ the pain that I'd ever experienced. It was my penalty for allowing myself to be manipulated by Skyfire, not just in the present but in the past as well, when we'd first met. Everything bad that had ever happened to me, every cruel twist that Fate had seen fit to apply to my life, had been _his_ fault. If I had never met him, my life, I knew, would have been good. I'd had a promising career then, and then…_Boom_. Enter Skyfire…and my entire world fell apart.

And he continued to screw up my life, too, culminating in this latest experience. Damn Skyfire! Damn him! I wished nothing more, at that moment, than for his death, so that he would stop tormenting me…

With that thought in mind, I felt Megatron begin to stir. He was coming out of the torpor that was a general effect of bonding, particularly of bonds as…intense…as the ones that he and I shared. He always recovered quickly, though. He was strong that way… Eventually, true to form, Megatron propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at me, his mouth curled in an expression of disgust. He opened his mouth, perhaps to say something to me, but then the small com light on his chest flashed on and he spoke into it instead.

"Yes, Soundwave," he said, his voice still rough from his exertions.

"Medbay staff is on alert and standing by, Megatron," Soundwave replied in his impassive monotone over the com.

I really wasn't surprised that Soundwave had had the medbay prepared. It was often my first stop after an encounter with Megatron, after all, and Soundwave was certainly bright enough to know that…

"Cancel that order," Megatron was roughly replying. "Have a medic bring his equipment and meet me here in front of Starscream's quarters. Starscream is now confined to quarters until I say otherwise."

"Understood. Soundwave out." If Soundwave was at all surprised by the order, he of course didn't show it. Soundwave never showed anything, never let anything affect him. Sometimes I envied that…

Meanwhile, Megatron stood up and walked over to where he had left his fusion canon. I watched him as he slid the gun back into position on his arm with the fluid ease of long practice.

"Get yourself cleaned up, Starscream," he said off-handedly as he made sure the weapon was properly mounted on his arm. It was as if he wasn't even cognizant of the condition that I was in at the moment. He didn't even look at me, in fact. "I have a few plans in the works, and I will need your assistance with them."

I hadn't moved even a millimeter since the beginning of the bond. In fact, right at that moment, moving any part of my body was the _last_ thing I wanted to do, but I knew I had to at least scoot myself to my recharge berth. A while back, I had installed special hook-ups that were close to the floor…because that was usually where I was when I needed to recharge: on the floor, hardly able to move, and in worlds of pain. But even though the recharge berth was calling to me like a siren, I knew that I couldn't let Megatron leave just yet. I was still too…empty, and my mind was still too fuzzy and confused for me to be able to deal with being alone yet.

"Megatron," I croaked. There was still some energon pooling in my throat so the urge to cough it up was almost overwhelming, but I held it back for fear that Megatron would lose patience with me while I coughed and leave. "I'm…sorry. I shouldn't have kept such important information from you. I—"

But then I couldn't stop myself, and I coughed. It was just a few times, but it was enough to keep me from finishing my sentence.

"Hmmm…" Megatron murmured speculatively, as he turned, approached me, and then knelt down beside me. He looked so strong and confident and wise. So perfect. So…unlike me. "Do you remember who you are, Starscream?" Megatron was asking of me, his voice almost…gentle.

Although it was extremely uncomfortable to do so, I shook my head slowly, wincing when sensitive damaged spots came into contact with the floor. Repeated, sputtering coughs kept me from actually saying no, though

Megatron, meanwhile, sighed impatiently, as if he couldn't be bothered with me now that I had given him what he wanted. Still, he recited his little ritualistic speech to me, as he always did just before he left me.

"_As usual_," he said, "I need to remind you of what a _complete_ mess you were when I found you. You had been top of the class at the Cybertron War Academy, yes, but you were _completely_ dysfunctional when it came to combat and leadership. Until _I _instructed you, of course. And now you are second in command of the entire Decepticon army, Starscream. You wield a power that anyone in his right mind would _die_ to possess. Because of me. All that you are, all that you have become, is _solely_ a result of what _I, _in my generosity, have given you because you _certainly_ could not have attained it for yourself." He paused as he casually brought his fusion canon around, pointed it in my direction, and began to run his fingers up and down the barrel, as if to reassure himself that it still was there. "Never forget, Starscream," he concluded, "that you _owe_ me. You owe me everything. You are _nothing_ without me."

I winced in reaction to suddenly looking down into the familiar black hole that was the barrel of Megatron's fusion cannon, which happened to be pointing in my direction. But I winced even more because I knew that Megatron was right.

"I know that I'm nothing," was my scratchy and equally ritualistic reply to Megatron's speech, the one that I knew pleased him. Then I cleared my throat and continued, "And I promise you, Megatron…I promise I'll never go to Skyfire again. He has deceived me for the last time. The next time I see him, it will be to kill him. I swear it to you, Megatron."

And I meant it, too. I meant every single word. I had realized, as I'd lain there on the floor of my quarters waiting for Megatron to regain consciousness, that I didn't need Skyfire, that I didn't need _anyone_. I had decided, right then and there, that I would show Megatron and everybody else that I _could_ make it on my own, by myself, with assistance from no one. Listening to Megatron's ritualistic speech had only managed to reinforce that notion. So, once again, I realized who I was and what I was supposed to be doing.

Someday _I_ would lead the Decepticons. Someday Megatron would do _my_ bidding. And in order to bring that ambition to its full fruition, I needed to be strong. I needed to be ready when the chance arose, as it most assuredly would arise. And soon.

"Nevertheless," Megatron was saying as he stood up, "you are confined to your quarters until I call for you. And I expect you to deliver the coordinates of Skyfire's location as soon as you are fully functional again."

"Of course, Megatron!" I said loudly, which was a mistake because it caused more energon to bubble up into my throat, choking me. "I won't disappoint you! I promise! You'll see that—" The rest came out as a series of indiscernible coughs and sputters.

"All right, stop babbling," Megatron barked impatiently. I could tell that he was through with me, that he wanted nothing more than to leave my presence. And, as if on cue, the door chimed; the medic had arrived. Megatron turned to open the door, allowing him to enter.

"When you are through with him," I heard Megatron say after a few moments of conferring with the medic, "alert Soundwave and he will unlock the door to let you out. And be advised, Medic, that I want him to be in _perfect_ working condition when you are through, or else I will be very…displeased."

Judging by the medic's suddenly nervous expression, I figured he probably understood Megatron's intentions completely.

"Yes, Megatron," was all he said before kneeling down at my side and opening his bag of nasty little tools.

"Thank you, Megatron," I called out just as Megatron stepped out into the corridor. He turned around and just nodded tersely before punching in his personal code on the door lock.

"I will check back with you in a few days," he said with a crisp nod as the doors slid shut and I heard the soft hum of a force field lock powering up within the access panel.

Yes, Megatron was right that I owed him, that I had been nothing before I met him. But he was also right that he had taught me what I needed to know to succeed in my ambitions for my life. And someday…I determined that someday I would show him just how much I'd learned under his tutelage.

I would show _everyone_.

But…not right at the moment, no. At the moment, my energy reserves were fading fast and blackness was determinedly eating away at the periphery of my vision as I began to slip, against my will, into repair mode. I fought it desperately, but it was a losing battle. And the very last image that I saw before consciousness was ripped from grasp was of the medic, who had a look of uncomprehending horror on his face as he examined my "tears."

No doubt, he couldn't understand why Megatron would have inflicted such a thing upon me. But then, the medic's lack of comprehension wasn't surprising to me at all. After all, _no one_ understood Megatron and me. No one understood what bound us together. And probably, no one ever would…


	16. Chapter 15

**_"Let's get back to the base." _**  
_Jazz in "More That Meets the Eye" _

The first thought that bounced around in my little mind, as the sparkling, spinning bits of the world slowly began to merge into reality around me, was that the best thing about being kidnapped was the sweet, sweet reunion that happened when you returned home.

_Amen, love, _Prowl's "voice" responded quietly, lazily in my mind.

Surprised that Prowl had awoken before me because usually it was the other way around, I made the considerable effort to raise my head from the front of his shoulder, where it had come to rest just before I'd quite literally passed out after one very intense—and therefore very _draining_—bond, and gazed silently at him. He was staring up at the ceiling, one arm wrapped protectively around me and the other flung up above and around his head. The dimmed lights reflected appealingly off of his body as he lay there, in such a way that I would have found him completely irresistible, exhaustion or no exhaustion, but for one small fact: His mind appeared to be a thousand miles away. I fuzzily wondered if he'd been awake during the entire time that I'd been, for all intents and purposes, unconscious, but for the moment I didn't want to disturb him enough to ask him. Besides, I still wasn't fully recovered from the bond. The world still had fuzzy black edges around it, and the little that I could clearly see was still spinning crazily every once in a while. So, with a resigned sigh, I settled in to wait out the recovery period. Lowering my head back to Prowl's shoulder, I snuggled myself as closely as I possibly could against his body, wrapping one of my legs possessively around one of his and just relishing his closeness in both body and, for the moment, mind.

I knew that the past few days hadn't been easy on Prowl, what with me being kidnapped and held captive by Starscream and his brand-new Combaticons and all. Bluestreak, the ultimate source for the discriminating gossip-hound, had confided as we'd driven back to Headquarters after the whole fiasco that he'd never seen Prowl so wigged out as he'd been during the four days that I'd been Starscream's unwilling guest, that Optimus Prime had practically had to chain Prowl to Headquarters in order to prevent him from going off and trying to rescue me all by his little lonesome, more sane and logical tactics be damned.

And I knew, too, that Prowl's relief at my return had been all-consuming because…Well, because he'd wasted no time at all in dragging me back to our quarters after Ratchet had made sure that I was all in one physical piece after my little adventure. And once we'd arrived there…Well, very few actual words had been exchanged between us once we were behind closed doors because they weren't really needed. Memories, emotions, thoughts, and experiences were all easily shared through a bond in ways that were far more efficient—and pleasurable—than conveying them in mere words. Prowl loved efficiency, and I loved pleasure. What a pair.

So I had been able to assure Prowl that I was none the worse for the wear for having been Starscream's guest for four days, and Prowl had been able to glean something of my experiences during that stretch of time although I hadn't "shown" him absolutely everything that had happened to me. I really hadn't _wanted_ to explore all of it at the time, even though he had wanted to know; I had just wanted to relish being with him again, in every sense of the word. I had wanted that so badly that it was as if I'd been away for four years instead of just four days. So in the end I had been able to share just enough of my experiences, apparently, to give Prowl's mind something tasty to chew on. Which, for Prowl, was a good thing, I guess. Silent thinking was, after all, his favorite hobby.

But me, I preferred action. So, pushing aside the fuzzy dizziness that I still felt and would likely feel for quite a while yet, I managed to prop myself up on one elbow so that I could just look at Prowl. And believe me, I took a long, _savoring_ moment to do just that. I loved doing that right after a bond. Usually, he seemed so…relaxed, so peaceful at those times. At all other times, Prowl was a ball of intensity, his mind constantly chewing on some problem or another, his body's perfect posture and control mirroring the careful precision of his thoughts. But after a bond, it was if all of that precision and intensity and orderliness went completely out the window. He became…soft, open both mentally and physically, and I loved it when that happened, felt incredibly privileged that I was the only one who ever saw Prowl like that, who ever saw Prowl with his guard completely down, his instinctive emotional defenses put aside for just a little while, just for me.

But this time was different. _Prowl_ was different. This time, although my body was curled around and entwined with his so that I could both see and feel that Prowl's body was completely relaxed, I could even more clearly see and feel that his mind was not relaxed at all. No, it seemed that my mate was so engrossed in his thoughts that it didn't even register with him that I was moving again, that I was watching him, that I was even in the same room with him at all. If the situation had been different, I might have been insulted, might have accused him of ignoring me. At times I could indeed be that selfish, that self-absorbed. But now that reaction was deflected by the fact that I could still feel something of Prowl's roiling thoughts and emotions ricocheting around in my own spark. They were not so intense now that I could "hear" them, that I could directly feel and experience them as I could when we were actively bonded, but I could definitely sense their troubled echoes, knew that things were not all shiny and rosy in Prowl Land at the moment.

And, when I thought about it, I could easily see why that was so, on several different levels. For one thing, we'd simply never voluntarily been apart for so long, not since we'd bonded. And this separation, of course, hadn't been at all voluntary. But much more importantly than that, Prowl knew—because Skyfire had told me and I had, in turn, dutifully relayed the information to Prowl—that Starscream had been becoming noticeably unstable over the past few months, and so Prowl had known that he was exceedingly unpredictable, apt to do just about anything no matter how illogical, which was more than enough to give logic-ruled Prowl a severe case of the crawling willies. And the fact that Starscream had apparently been gunning for Megatron himself…Well, that had all sorts of dark and scary implications of which only Prowl, of all the Autobots other than me, would have been aware. So I was sure that he'd had himself worked into a tizzy, could just imagine how he'd been acting while I was gone, as all sorts of horrible possible scenarios and fates ran through his calculating, tactically-focused mind to their horrible, extrapolated end. "Wigging out," as Bluestreak had put it, probably didn't even _begin_ to cover his behavior, I was sure. _Nothing_ was more apt to throw Prowl for a loop than when someone he cared about was in danger, especially if he could do nothing to help that person. I knew that, more than anything else, Prowl couldn't handle losing anyone that he'd let himself care for. That was the very reason why he didn't in general allow himself to attach, emotionally, to others. Even _I_ had simply been lucky in that regard; I had been in exactly the right place at exactly the right time to earn Prowl's…er, affection, among other things.

Fleetingly, I wondered if Prowl was regretting all of that now. Until now, we'd never really been apart, not for any real length of time. Neither of us had been seriously threatened, physically or otherwise, since Prowl and I had bonded. For us, the last eight months or so had been a very satisfying stretch of time—not to mention an extremely pleasurable one—as we got to know each other in ways that I, pardon the cliché, had never dreamed possible. In short, Prowl had been given no reason to regret his actions in bonding with me, and neither had I.

But this time…This time things could have gone horribly wrong, in ways that I didn't really want to think about. I'd been faking unconsciousness at the time in order to gather as much information as I could, and I'd overheard Starscream talk about using some of my bits—bits that_ I_ needed to survive—in order to make the Combaticons independently functional. So I had been intensely aware of the fact that I could have been killed at any time while I'd been Starscream's captive. In fact, I probably _would_ have died or at least been seriously maimed had Starscream and the Combaticons ever managed to round up one more Transformer before Megatron—and, perhaps more importantly, Menasor—had arrived to screw up Starscream's schemes.

Ironic, all of that was, given what I'd been doing for Starscream, all unbeknownst to him, over the past months…but in this case, my twisted amusement at the irony didn't _nearly_ make up for what had almost happened. And I figured that this was one of the things that was eating away at Prowl now, as he lay there, staring meditatively up at the ceiling, thinking about Primus-knew-what…and I knew that I needed to stop that train of thought of his before it could careen out of control and carry him right over the edge of a cliff.

To distract Prowl, I reached out and lightly ran the fingers of one hand down his cheek. It was a gentle reminder that I was there and, now that the…uh, formalities…of our reunion were out of the way at least for the moment, that we needed to have a talk. At my touch, Prowl started slightly as he emerged from his reverie and turned his head to look at me. His eyes, I noticed, were dimmed from his own exhaustion and I quickly came to the conclusion that he _had_ been conscious for the entire time that I hadn't been. I knew, too, that he hadn't recharged for the entire time that I'd been gone, so his apparent inability to get to that state was quite worrisome. I quirked a soft, concerned smile at him as I continued to stroke his face gently.

"Hi," I eventually said quietly. I was going for tender, but I was surprised by how badly my voice growled and then squeaked and then croaked over just that one little word. I sounded like Thundercracker going through a pubescent voice change or something… The whole "tender" thing probably didn't get across to Prowl very well.

"Hi," Prowl answered me, and his voice was more than a little shaky, too, although I had no idea if it was simply because he was exhausted or if it was because he'd been thinking too much about things that I wished he wouldn't think about at all. I figured that I wouldn't get a straight answer out of him voluntarily, without some…er, prompting. I let my fingers trail down his face so that eventually my hand cupped his chin, and looking him directly in the eye, I asked him the question that was uppermost in my mind.

"You OK?" I asked softly, letting every ounce of the concern that I was feeling creep into in my croaky, squeaky voice.

Prowl just stared at me, his intense blue gaze never leaving my face, for what seemed like five minutes. I watched as several emotions flickered across his face in that seemingly-eternal moment, and I could dimly feel some of them that were still faintly projecting themselves across the so-recently-stimulated bond between us. Relief was foremost amongst them, naturally enough. Happiness that I was back was high on the list, too. A desire to both wring Starscream's neck and pound some sense into his head was there along with a few others, all of them easily understandable. But beneath them all was the emotion whose transmission across the bond had been unsettling me since I'd awoken: Worry. A deep, festering, foreboding worry. And Prowl knew that I could sense it, too. I could tell by his eventual answer to my question. Instead of the pat "I'm fine" filled with determined self-reassurance that he'd normally offer me even when I knew he wasn't fine at all, Prowl heaved a deep, soul-weary sigh and gave me a very hesitant, very nakedly vulnerable reply.

"I…will be," he murmured.

I heaved a sigh of my own back at him and said quietly, "We need to talk, Prowl."

Perhaps surprised at my perception of the situation, Prowl gave me a serious look and then suddenly pushed himself up so that he was sitting up straight against the wall at the head of the recharge berth, his door panels tensely splayed against it and his arms crossed over his midsection. He watched as I went through a similar sitting-up process, although I ended up leaning sideways against him, my head resting against the flat side of his shoulder. Without seeming to think about it, Prowl snaked one of his arms around me and then crushed me tightly against him for a long moment before releasing most of the pressure but not entirely letting go of me. I wasn't about to complain, but I wondered briefly what had brought out this sudden need on his part to be so…demonstrative.

I looked up at him questioningly, and he answered my wonderings without me having to say a word, "I came close to losing you, Jazz…and I don't think I could bear that if it ever happened."

I sighed, replying, "It's over, Prowl. And I'm still here."

There was nothing much else to say. We knew that the situation and the lives that we lived day in and day out were precarious. One or the other of us could be killed in the blink of a human eye, without warning, without even a second of preparation time for the survivor. And then there'd be the stretch of time when the survivor would have to adjust to being alone in his mind again, a process that, so I'd heard, was not pleasant at all. But that was the stark reality of war amongst our kind, and of course it was one of the main reasons why many Autobots – and, I imagined, many Decepticons – chose not to enter into a bond at all. The personal risks were just too great for many to accept. But, to me, the risks of _not_ entering into such a relationship were far greater, and so I had pursued my prey for a very long time. Prowl, that prey of mine, hadn't quite come to that same realization yet, though, hadn't fully appreciated the fact that the benefits of being bonded far outweighed the risks.

"You could just as easily not have come back," Prowl was saying, meanwhile. "You just showed me what happened to you these past four days, and you showed me what…what _he_ said. What _he_ did."

So that was it. That vehement pronoun – Prowl almost never referred to Starscream by his name these days; it was always a scornful _he_ or _him_ – meant that this was about Starscream. Funny how my life seemed to revolve around the guy lately. In fact, the thought amused me so much that I had to stifle a chuckle because I knew that Prowl, in his current state of mind, just wouldn't appreciate the irony at all.

"I don't want you going back to that island, Jazz," Prowl was saying. "If I have to chain you up in these quarters to stop you from going, I will. I don't want you helping _him_ anymore. I never much liked the idea in the first place, and I _really_ don't like it now."

Not long ago at all—last week, even—such a dictatorial mandate _really_ would have pissed me off. And, in truth, even now I felt a twinge of instinctive, reflexive contrariness, a desire to heatedly spat that I'd go to the island if I damned well felt like it, Prowl's wishes and dictates be damned. But for some reason, my reaction was more restrained now. Prowl had obviously been deeply rattled by this latest incident, and I just wasn't cruel enough to rub salt into the wound. Even so, I felt a need to defend myself and my decisions and actions _somehow_.

Well, I never really thought of it as helping Starscream," I replied calmly. "I always thought of it more as helping Skyfire."

"Perhaps," Prowl said with a shrug before pointing out, "but ultimately, you _were_ helping _him_, no matter how much justification you do to the contrary." His voice softened, his arm tightened around me again for a moment, and he added quietly but imploringly, "_Enough_, Jazz. Haven't you already done more than even _Skyfire_ could have ever expected you to do?"

In response, I nodded wordlessly. Since I'd offered to do my best to bring Skyfire the supplies he needed whenever he needed them, I'd made no less than seven grueling, energy-draining round trips to his Indonesian island, ferrying jet parts that I'd begged, borrowed, or stolen from various sources that shall remain nameless, often by the skin of my teeth, as the saying went. And despite my promise to continue to do so for however long Skyfire needed me to do so, I found that it was becoming increasingly difficult to procure parts and, even when I could get them, it was becoming even _more_ increasingly difficult to conjure up excuses to offer up to Optimus Prime as to why I needed to leave Headquarters for days at a stretch and to explain to him why I was extremely exhausted when I came back and needed an additional day to recharge.

So, when I was honest with myself, I knew that the resources of my delivery service were pretty much tapped out, and I resolved not to be upset with myself about it. I knew that I'd done what I could, more than Skyfire had probably expected, as Prowl had just pointed out; it was just that the job had lasted far longer than I had thought it would when I'd made the promise. And the guilt was lessened by the fact that, even had I still been willing and able—or allowed, as the case may be—to offer up my delivery services to Skyfire, I had a distinct and somewhat disquieting feeling that after this latest incident with Starscream, they'd no longer be required. Starscream was either going to break away for good…or else he was very shortly going to be dead. Or else _Skyfire _himself_ – _and probably a good number of other people along with him _–_ was going to be dead. I told Prowl as much and, when he gave me only a questioning stare in response, I explained to him a few tidbits of Starscream's behavior that I'd observed during my captivity while feigning unconsciousness, tidbits that I deliberately hadn't expressed to Prowl during the bond.

I told Prowl about Starscream's desperation, about the manic animation of his every word, his every gesture, during those four days that I'd had liberty to more or less covertly observe him. About his fiery, deranged excitement at the thought of destroying Megatron once and for all. About the times when he'd just sit there and stare off into space, muttering things that were occasionally audible, often not. About the times when he was alone but for his "unconscious" captives and he'd fantasize out loud about how he was going to destroy Megatron and the entire planet Earth along with him because he thought that the universe would be better off without "this Primus-forsaken, accursed planet." About when he'd mutter – punctuated with loud proclamations – that he didn't need Skyfire, either, that he'd _never_ needed him, that everything that had happened to Starscream was all somehow Skyfire's fault and how he'd soon pay for it all, that he'd be better off without him, and how, precisely, he would show the world, the galaxy, the entire _universe_ that this was so. About how he would rule the universe as a tyrant after he got rid of Megatron and Skyfire, how he'd spend his time hunting down and destroying anyone who had ever opposed him, who had ever ridiculed him, who had ever threatened him, and, most importantly, who had ever hurt him.

I didn't mention that Starscream had given _me_ a nice, hard, swift kick in the side – or that the impact site still ached quite a bit – when he'd made that last proclamation. Apparently I was on Starscream's list of folks to hunt down and destroy…but there was no need to add fuel to Prowl's worried fire. But I told him everything else that I could think of.

"I'm pretty sure that things are coming to a head," I finished with a deep, weary sigh. "And I don't like the direction it looks like it's going to go. Starscream's lost it. I don't like to think that anyone – even someone like him – is beyond reach, but…Well, he seemed _very_ determined to follow through with all that he said. I doubt that the pounding he took from Megatron will change his mind one bit."

Prowl shook his head sadly.

"Given his personality," he agreed quietly, dismally, "and given what you have told me about…er, them, it will likely only make his resolve that much stronger, and he'll be that much more likely to do something…rash. "

I nodded in silent agreement, suppressing a shiver at the thought of what was likely to come. I wasn't really thinking of what would happen to Starscream, nor did that concern me much. As far as I was concerned, he'd dug his own grave in a spectacularly flamboyant sort of way, foolishly rejecting the lifeline that Skyfire had unselfishly tossed his way. Rather, I was aching for Skyfire because whatever happened over the next short while, it probably wasn't going to be at all pleasant for him, and he just didn't deserve that.

"We should probably go and warn Skyfire about all of this," Prowl announced, all suddenly intense again, as if he'd picked up on my thoughts and magnified their urgency a hundredfold. He practically leaped off of the recharge berth and began to head purposefully for the door.

"Unless you're intending to use those door panels of yours as wings, you'll need hydrofoils for that, Prowl," I reminded him, my words momentarily stopping him in his tracks. Which, as far as I was concerned, was a good thing. I had had plans for this evening, and those plans didn't remotely involve heading off on an unexpected and unplanned trip to the other side of the world. No, those plans were far less ambitious and involved only me, Prowl, and the nice, comfortable recharge berth upon which I was sitting. I'd been gone for four days, and during those four days my lifeline, the thing that had kept fear at bay, had been anticipating a sweet and _prolonged_ reunion with my beloved. I, for one, planned on having it, current events be damned…and I knew that, if given half a chance, I could make Prowl do whatever I wanted him to do…

Prowl, meanwhile, was glaring over his shoulder at me.

"Well, I'm tired of hearing Wheeljack complaining of boredom," he was huffing. "It'll give him something to do." And he took another determined step toward the door.

"Prowl…" I said imploringly, "let's be reasonable here for a sec, OK? I don't think Wheeljack would appreciate you showing up on his doorstep demanding a refit at three in the morning."

At that, Prowl's determinedly-squared shoulders drooped in sudden defeat. His _door panels_ drooped, even. He turned back to me, took in the sight of me reclining on the recharge berth wearing what I hoped was an enticing, inviting smile, but he didn't seem to see me. Instead, he just walked over to the recharge berth and wearily plopped himself down on the edge of it, his back to me. Hunching forward, he buried his face in his hands.

"I just feel like we should be doing _something _about this," Prowl said, rubbing his face tiredly. "Skyfire's sitting out there on that island, hoping, thinking that everything's all right and that _he_ will eventually see the light. Meanwhile, _he's_ apparently trying to convince himself to haul off and kill Skyfire. It's just…_wrong_. Skyfire needs to know about this so that he can…move on. Or something."

Sighing, I sat up, curled myself around Prowl, rested my chin on one of his shoulders, and draped one arm over the other so that I could stroke his chest comfortingly.

"Yeah," I agreed quietly. "Yeah, he does need to know, Prowl. But there's nothing that _we_ can do about that, at least not right at this moment. I'll try to contact him tomorrow, I promise. But right now," I added, pulling him insistently down, so that he was laying on the recharge berth and I was laying alongside him, "you need to rest," I finished with what I hoped was a devilish grin.

"Oh, really?" Prowl answered archly, although he submitted willingly enough to my demands. "You're saying that now, but why do I get the sense," he asked as I nuzzled at the side of his neck and he stroked the back of my head in silent encouragement, "that if you have your way, I won't be getting any rest for at least the next…oh…two hours or so?" He was trying to sound annoyed, put-out, reluctant…but I knew it was all an act because his voice was all breathy and he was tilting his head to one side to give me better access. And then he gave me an encouraging look as I lifted my head to gaze into his eyes.

I stroked his cheek as I gave him the most lecherous evil grin in my wide repertoire of evil grins.

"Because you're just real smart that way, love," I said. And then I kissed him, because I'd decided some time ago that I liked doing that. And then the world melted away…

…Until the intercom crackled to life and Optimus Prime's melodic but most unwelcome voice announced that the Insecticons were attacking some city or another and that all Autobots were to report to the Control Room. Like, immediately. Groaning in disappointment, I rolled off of Prowl and contemplated smashing the intercom above the recharge berth and then claiming that we didn't hear the page because the 'com had been inexplicably damaged. But even as the idea came to me, I knew that it wouldn't work. One way or another, we'd be going to the Control Room, even if someone had to come in here and drag us there kicking and screaming. Optimus Prime wasn't a guy who'd take "We're busy, dammit!" for an answer.

Pushing myself up on one elbow, I looked down at Prowl, who looked as disgruntled as I felt.

"I demand a rain check," I said, playfully skipping the fingers of one hand lightly down his chest.

"And I'll make sure you get to redeem it ASAP," Prowl promised with a soft, anticipatory smile before sitting up. After heaving a preparatory sigh and casting a wistful glance over his shoulder at me, Prowl stood and headed for the door. I followed slowly, reluctantly, wondering just how long it would really be before I'd get to use that rain check. Because as I walked out the door, I had a sinking suspicion that it wasn't going to be anytime soon…


	17. Chapter 16

**_"I thought he'd blow a fuse when he found out."_**  
_Thundercracker in "More Than Meets the Eye"_

I skulked in the depths of a darkened, shadowy corridor, studiously trying to ignore the absurdity of my efforts to blend in with my surroundings. Stealth wasn't really my thing, yet there I was, nonetheless... There I had been for many hours, in fact, waiting…waiting…

_Who the hell do you think you are, anyway?_ one of the omnipresent inner voices that lived in my head suddenly demanded to know, and it demanded to know at a decibel level that made me cringe even though I knew the voice was all in my head. _Ravage?_

_Shut up_ , I mentally growled back at the voice, and for once it huffily subsided into an offended, brooding silence, and I went back to waiting.

And waiting…

I was in the corridor that ran outside of the medbay, had stationed myself a hundred meters or so up the corridor from its heavy double doors. I was trying to blend in with the shadows even though I knew it was a vain attempt. I was a warrior, after all. As such, I was designed to stand out and be intimidating, although rare were the times when I actually _felt_ truly intimidating. Still, I was trying to go unnoticed. And the few medbay workers who'd left the bay after completing their duty shifts hadn't noticed me – or at least if they _had_ noticed me they hadn't bothered to acknowledge my presence as they'd passed by. No doubt, even if they had noticed me, they wouldn't have wanted to…I don't know…anger me or something by challenging my presence there, anyway. Or maybe they knew why I was there, and their lack of a reaction to my presence was some sort of unspoken approval of what I was about to do…?

_Now you're just getting all stupid and mushy_ , that inner voice snickered in amusement at the exaggeratedly heroic turn of my thoughts.

_Shut up,_ I inwardly growled once again.

I was nervous. I was extremely nervous, in fact, and my wandering, argumentative thoughts were a symptom of that. I was standing there with my back pressed as closely as possible to the bulkhead behind me, energon pump hammering frantically away in my midsection, so loudly that I could feel it and hear it, and I wildly imagined that anyone three decks above or below me could hear it, too. My fingers were digging anxiously into the cool, smooth expanse of purple-grey bulkhead behind me. It was a reassuringly solid presence, a presence that should have steadied me, that should have made me feel more secure, more at ease…but it didn't. I was, in fact, more nervous about this "mission" that I'd spontaneously assigned myself than I was before I charged into a pitched battle with the Autobots, even one in which I and my comrades were vastly outnumbered and there was a fairly strong possibility that I'd end up crashed, burned, and in a world of hurt.

_That's because then you simply have no choice in the matter_ , that nagging inner voice cheerfully, helpfully informed me. _That's because then you're just carrying out orders…and if you don't obey those orders then you know that you're liable to meet up with Megatron's fist, if not the business end of his fusion cannon, too. So fighting an uphill battle, in that case, is just the lesser of two evils, so there's no sense in being nervous about it. _

_But this? Ohhhh, this is all your own doing, Thundercracker my boy, all your own crazy idea. And woe to you if you get caught... _

"I told you," I muttered, this time aloud, "to shut up."

And then I abruptly clamped my jaw shut, biting back a surprised gasp, as the medbay doors parted with a disgruntled-sounding hiss and Hook stomped his way out of the medbay. Fortunately for me, the Constructicon surgeon's attention seemed to be completely absorbed by the small datapad he cradled in the palm of one hand. He was scowling ferociously at the small device.

"I swear to Primus that he can be a bigger menace than all the Autobots put together," Hook suddenly and quite clearly announced, shaking his head in what was probably exasperation as he gazed at the datapad that he held. "And of course _I'm_ the one who always gets to put him back together again."

Hook spoke as if there was someone with him, standing right there next to him. He made absolutely no effort to muffle his voice or to rein in any notions that the casual passerby might construe as mutinous. He just shook his head again and then, much to my relief, he turned neatly on one heel and stomped toward the elevator at the far end of the corridor, heading in the opposite direction from me. He was still muttering as he went and still glaring ferociously at the datapad he carried.

The identity of the "he" to whom Hook had referred was obvious, of course. Anyone who'd seen the damage that Megatron had inflicted upon Starscream would have known that easily. I suppressed a shudder and quickly shoved that thought as far to the back of my mind as possible as Hook finally reached the elevator, stepped aboard, and then silently zoomed off to who-knew-where.

Other than Starscream, Hook had been the last remaining person in the medbay, at least by my count and according to the duty roster. Now was the time to make my move. Still, I waited for a few long moments, just in case Hook decided to return for some reason. But after ten minutes, during which the corridor remained blessedly though somewhat oppressively empty, I began to inch my way cautiously toward the medbay doors, keeping to the shadows as best I could, just in case. The journey seemed to take forever, but eventually I reached my destination. The doors slid open obligingly for me, revealing the darkened, deserted complex within. Cautiously, I poked my head into the main ward, in order to take stock of the situation inside before I fully committed myself to entering the premises.

The place reeked, as usual, of death. Contrary to what one might think, the Decepticon medbay was often not a place where lives were saved but rather a place where they were lost. Those unfortunate individuals brought here were those who could not help themselves for whatever reason, and they were often so close to death's door that it was usually quite impossible to drag them away from it. As a result, the place often seemed haunted by the restless, unfortunate souls who had lost their lives there, and there was always a lingering, faint scent of the energon that they had spilled, no matter how often the berths and the floors were scrubbed and the various instruments cleaned.

I hated the medbay, and under normal circumstances avoided it at all costs, but today the circumstances were not at all normal, and I felt drawn to the place. Briefly, before stepping fully into the medbay and committing myself to the brash, brazen but still quite vague plan that I had sort of formulated in my head, I considered why that was, why I was feeling deeply obligated to help someone who could, at times, irritate the living hell out of me…

It didn't take me long to arrive at the answer: Once last night had happened, there had been no going back for me. There was no chance that I could ignore what went on between the two of them anymore. There was no chance that I could just look the other way and go on merrily about my own business as everyone else – enviably, from my point of view – seemed to be able to do. There was no chance that I could tolerate the effect that their behavior had on everyone in Headquarters, from the pinnacle of the Decepticon hierarchy down to the lowest menial laborer.

Last night, Megatron had crossed a line, some invisible threshold that I hadn't known that I'd had until I'd unwittingly walked into Starscream's quarters. Never had Megatron done such horrific damage to Starscream as he had done last night. Never had he left him for dead without a medic on standby, waiting to put him back together again. Never had Starscream, to my knowledge, required such a long, extended visit to the medbay – where _no one_ went of their own volition – in the aftermath of Megatron's attentions.

Something had changed in their relationship, and it had changed very abruptly, very drastically…and very recently. Specifically, Starscream himself had changed. It was a subtle change in some ways, but Skywarp and I had both noticed it since, of everyone in Headquarters, we were the ones who most often dealt with Starscream. We had discussed the subject of Starscream's transfiguration just days before this latest incident, in fact. He had become less obtrusive over the last few months, less argumentative, as if he hadn't wanted to draw any undue attention to himself. But there had also been a noticeable, unfeigned self-confidence about him, an aura of peace the likes of which I had never seen in him. The result had been, for one thing, that Starscream lately hadn't felt so much of a need to be as loud and as arrogant as everyone knew that he could often be. Rather, Starscream had lately become a much quieter person…

…With everyone _except_ Megatron, that is, and a dangerous, powerful friction had been developing between them over the last few months, culminating in Starscream going off and creating the Combaticons. He had challenged Megatron's authority, and he had come close, very close, to winning…but not quite close enough. He'd been exiled, but that hadn't lasted long. It had only postponed the reckoning between him and Megatron for a few days. After that reckoning, Starscream had been confined to quarters and then there had been this latest instance of…unpleasantness.

In its wake, _I_ was left vastly conflicted. I was used to living in a state of constant conflict within myself, true, but in this case, it was a much more powerful-than-usual conflict. And after last night, I simply had no choice in the matter anymore.

Yet still I hesitated on the threshold of the medbay. To cross the threshold fully was to commit myself fully to the course of action that I'd decided upon, regardless of what the consequences of that course of action might be should my intervention be discovered. But _not_ to intervene, _not_ to cross that threshold was ultimately unconscionable. No amount of arguing with myself would dispel the desire to do, for once in my life, the right thing. So when I stepped fully into the empty medbay, my chin was high. My back was ramrod straight. My shoulders were meticulously squared. Rarely did I feel so completely comfortable with a decision that I had made, and that comfort had suffused me with a confidence the likes of which I had never felt before. Even as the medbay doors swooshed closed behind me with a ponderous, foreboding finality, I didn't flinch, not even in my always-argumentative mind.

There was a dim pool of light that was seeping like spilled energon from under a closed door off to my left. I walked toward it cautiously, although I had no idea why I felt the need to be cautious. I knew who was behind that door, and unfortunately I knew exactly what his condition was, or at least I knew what it had been when Starscream had been taken to the medbay because…

Because it had been I who had carried Starscream there late the night before. It had slowly, dimly dawned on me, after yet again overhearing a commotion in Starscream's quarters and then listening for a long while to the utter, obscene silence that followed it, that this time no one seemed to be coming to help Starscream. I had lain there, indecisive, not knowing what to do, for quite a while. But then I made a decision, and I had crept out of my own quarters, careful not to disturb Skywarp, who had miraculously _not_ been wakened by the ruckus a few doors down. I had slunk down the corridor toward Starscream's quarters and, finding the door curiously unlocked, I had all unwittingly walked into a scene from the Pit.

The room had been completely dark, but in the light that spilled into the room from the corridor behind me, I could see that the walls were dented in places, deeply dented in a few areas. I could see that the furnishings were overturned and wrecked, that the computer equipment had been smashed. Liberal amounts of energon were splattered everywhere, trickling down the walls and pooling darkly on the floor. And, bizarrely, one of Starscream's wings had been embedded in the wall directly in front of me. Frozen in horror in the doorway, I had stared at Starscream's dismembered wing dully, not believing what I was seeing, not able to absorb it at all, not able to absorb _anything_. I had stood there for I know not how long, until a muffled sound that was half whimper and half moan had brought me crashing abruptly back into reality. I had turned reluctantly toward its source, preparing myself as best I could for what I'd see but still shocked nonetheless when I saw it.

Starscream was a broken, mutilated, half-conscious heap on the floor, curled defensively on his wingless side, shudders wracking his entire body. He seemed completely unaware that I was there, showing no response to my presence even as I had numbly approached him and, after a few moments spent staring down in disbelief and in horror at him, had carefully knelt down and picked him up as gently as I could. Starscream's arms had reflexively clamped themselves around my neck then, mindlessly and desperately clinging to me, as he whimpered pathetically in pain, as he begged me in slurred and almost incoherent words not to hurt him anymore, desperately assuring me that he would do whatever I wanted him to do from now on just so long as I wouldn't hurt him anymore.

He hadn't realized that I wasn't Megatron, despite the soft, comforting sounds that I murmured at him, words the likes of which I doubt Megatron would ever say to anyone, much less to Starscream. He hadn't heard them, hadn't understood them, too lost in his own his own shattered psyche to be aware of what was being said to him. He had been quite out of his mind; it had been shattered as surely as his body had been. And I, not caring whether or not Starscream's survival had been part of Megatron's plan when he'd left him alone to suffer in silence and solitude, not caring, at that moment, that my actions in helping Starscream might result in consequences from Megatron, had gently carried Starscream to the medbay.

Reliving that memory yet again, despite my efforts to push it aside and out of the forefront of my thoughts, I felt a distant flickering of anger, a flame that licked out from my own conscience. It was steadily building, feeding on the emotions that I hadn't consciously been acknowledging, that had been numbed by what had happened, but that were now, hours later, beginning to emerge like a flood that the strongest of dams could not hold back. Barely suppressed rage made me smack the panel that controlled the door in front of much harder than was necessary.

The door slid quietly aside, and I blinked in the cold, cheerless, and uncomfortably bright wash of yellow light that subsequently spilled out into the main ward. I had been skulking in darkness for so long that it took a few moments for my sensors to adjust to the different ambient light level. Once they did, I tentatively crossed the threshold into Starscream's little room and faced, finally, the daunting task at hand.

I stared at Starscream for long moments. He was lying there deeply and perhaps mercifully unconscious on the medical berth, although a twitch still ran its way through his heavily damaged body on occasion, as it had been doing when I'd brought him here hours before. And just at that moment, I fully realized, as I had only vaguely realized it before, that I had to get Starscream out of Decepticon Headquarters. Somehow. I knew deep down in the depths of my spark that if he didn't get out soon, he would die. Not right now, perhaps. Not tomorrow, maybe. But soon. It was as simple as that. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this latest "lesson" of Megatron's would teach Starscream nothing. At one time, it might have cowed him for a few weeks or maybe even for a few months. But not anymore. Starscream, once he'd sufficiently recovered, would only be enraged by what Megatron had done to him…and then he would only get himself killed because, much as Starscream wouldn't admit it, Megatron was vastly more powerful than he was and most of the Decepticon army was quite loyal to him. They would be on his side, not Starscream's.

But I flatly refused to let Megatron have the satisfaction of killing Starscream. Not after all that had already gone on between them. Not after what that conflict had cost the Decepticons. Not after I had had to sit in my own quarters on more occasions than I wanted to count and listen to what went on between them. Not after what I had seen last night.

But Starscream really was in terrible condition. I had known that, of course, since I was the one who'd brought him to the medbay. But I was only just then fully realizing how badly off he was, as I scrutinized him. He was in no shape to move, much less to fly. Looking at him, noticing damage that I'd been too much in shock to notice the night before, I found it hard to believe that he was still alive at all. His head was a complete mess, half of it crushed, caved in, the underlying cranial circuitry exposed and occasionally sparking ominously blue. One of his eyes, disturbingly, was gone; Megatron must have forcibly ripped it out of his face. The rest of his face had been pummeled, too, his jaw hanging askew on one side, a thin stream of energon running steadily out of the corner of his open mouth, puddling under his head.

Suppressing a shudder, I looked away, looked elsewhere, but that effort was pretty much futile because no matter where I looked on Starscream's body there was similarly horrifying damage… All that was left of Starscream's missing wing was a narrow, jagged, uneven lip of metal. There were dents and tears and scrapes and scratches and burns of varying degrees of severity on almost every part of his body. Entire sections of his outer armor were gone, his inner workings exposed and damaged, sparking in places. Hook had done a good deal of work on him already, sealing off most of the damage so that it was no longer leaking energon, at least, so that it was no longer immediately life-threatening, but he still needed major work.

I knew that before I could even contemplate smuggling Starscream out of Headquarters and advising him to _stay_ away for his own good, I had to get him to the point where he'd at least be able to fly. For this reason, it was a good thing that warriors tended to avoid the medbay like the plague. Because, of course, that meant that we had to find _other_ ways of getting minor – or major – damage attended to, and that meant that most Decepticon warriors had knowledge of basic repairs. Starscream's injuries went far beyond the basic and were really much too severe for my meager skills, but I would have to make do…somehow… Sighing deeply at the enormity of my self-assigned task, I got to work.

I became so deeply engrossed in my task that I didn't hear the main door to the medbay slide open, didn't hear uncertain footsteps approach the door to Starscream's room. I was, in fact, entirely unaware that someone else was present until that second door slid aside. Gasping in surprise, I whirled toward the door, powering up and raising my weapons as I did so. In that split second, I was completely prepared to destroy whomever it was that had caught me unawares. Fortunately, I managed to push aside those well-honed warrior instincts before I fired, long enough to recognize my visitor.

"Whoa!" Skywarp responded to my threatening posture, ducking reflexively. "Whoa, relax, TC! It's only me."

Hastily, I lowered my weapons and leaned weakly back against Starscream's medical berth as the panicked urgency of my reaction passed.

"Primus, Skywarp!" I fervently said to him. "Don't sneak up on me like that! I could have _killed_ you!"

"I'm sorry," Skywarp apologized contritely – and contrition unlaced with deep sarcasm was quite unusual for him, of course. "I thought you would have known that I was coming," he further explained.

Which was a reasonable assumption on his part, of course. Had I been paying even the _slightest_ bit of attention, I would have known that it was Skywarp who had arrived in the medbay. In fact, I would have known that he was coming before he'd even arrived on the same level as the medbay. I'd simply been far too absorbed in my task to notice Skywarp's approach, a fact which was somewhat unnerving because, if nothing else, it could have gotten me killed, had Skywarp been anyone else.

"You weren't exactly enthusiastic about this idea this morning, you know," I rather sullenly informed Skywarp, accusingly waving a laser scalpel at him. "I didn't think you wanted any part of it, so I didn't think you'd be showing up here."

"I _didn't_ want any part of it," Skywarp answered levelly, shrugging as he casually leaned back against the wall and folded his arms loosely across his chest. When I shot a puzzled glance at him and opened my mouth to ask him why the hell he was here, then, he further explained, "_At the time_ I didn't, at least. I thought you were out of your mind, yeah. But then I thought about it more…about the things you said you had…seen, and… Well, you can't really fault a guy for changing his mind, can you?"

"I suppose not," I answered quietly.

"Besides," Skywarp was adding lightly, attempting, as usual, to lighten the mood, "I'm kinda stuck with you, you know, and I'd prefer not to see you wind up dead. And since you're always trying to prevent _me_ from getting myself killed, I thought I'd return the favor for once. Sooooo… Here I am, in all my considerable glory."

At that, I leveled a ruefully amused gaze at Skywarp, though I couldn't quite conjure up the same sort of light, teasing grin that he was wearing. A wan ghost of a smile was all that I could manage.

"Thanks, 'Warp," I said quietly, simply, sincerely.

"Oh, don't thank me," Skywarp airily replied. "Once we get rid of _him_, his job is mine."

I knew he was kidding – mostly – just from the expression on his face, but I still felt compelled to wryly deadpan, "Spoken like a true Decepticon."

With that, Skywarp flashed an evil little grin at me and then pushed himself away from the wall against which he'd been leaning, and as he did so his expression abruptly morphed into one of deep concern. Typical of him. Skywarp was often moody, but the nice thing was that he also had an insanely short attention span. That meant that any one of his moods – especially his few darker ones – never lasted long. He was always impatiently moving on to the next mood on the roster. Approaching me now, Skywarp flicked a distasteful glance down at our mangled wingmate and then laid a supportive hand on my forearm. His concern, after all, was largely for me, not for Starscream.

"How is he?" he asked quietly as I stared down at Starscream, trying to decide what part of his mutilated body to tackle next.

"Not well," I answered with a deep, shaky sigh. "Hook has no reason to fear for his job because of _my_ skills, that's for sure," I added.

"Well now," Skywarp said with a mischievous grin, elbowing me suggestively. "That kinda depends on what 'skills' you're talking about, doesn't it?"

At that, I shot him a surprised sideways glance.

"You're _bad_," I murmured, trying to sound disapproving, but a traitorous grin, I knew, was struggling to display itself on my face.

"And you wouldn't have me any other way," Skywarp immediately, brightly responded, with a lecherous grin. And he was right, of course. But then he sighed wearily and looked down at Starscream for a moment, shaking his head sadly. Looking back up at me, he quietly added, "Well, then. Four hands are better than two, yes?"

The look that Skywarp gave me as he said that – affectionate, hopeful, and unswervingly supportive – just…melted me. I stared at him, gaping for what seemed a long moment, blinking in wonder.

"You're the best," I said simply, in lieu of gushing in any more embarrassingly effusive way.

And in response to _that_, Skywarp grinned impudently, widely at me.

"Oh, I know _that!_" he asserted, proudly puffing out his chest and giving me his patented "I'm all that" look.

That did it. Skywarp had accomplished his nefarious goal. I chortled, tried to hold back, but then I laughed. Loudly.

"Oh, be quiet and hand me that spanner there, would you?" I said, still chuckling, when I had mostly recovered.

And then both of us bent to the task at hand, working in tandem, in a silent, cooperative communion. Although it didn't rival, for instance, the Constructicons' depth of communion, it would still be quite impressive – though perhaps quite eerie, as well – to an outside observer. That communion of ours served Skywarp and I well on the battlefield, of course, where we could function as one instantly and instinctively, without having to pause to discuss anything between us. It served us equally well here, while we struggled as one with the gargantuan task of getting Starscream back online and functioning.

It took us… Well, actually, I have no idea how long it took us to do so. I could have checked my chronometer, sure, but I was too exhausted to do so. All I knew was that, a least several hours later, I found myself huddled on the floor, shaking, with my knees drawn up to my chest and my body slumped against the bulkhead behind me. We'd needed to get Starscream re-energized for the little adventure that we were planning to send him on. Without raiding Headquarters's energy reserves – not a smart thing to do, given that such a drain, no matter how small, would be easily noticed – there had been none available. Except mine. And now, I was drained and trying to recover. I thought I might have blacked out for a little while, even, since there was an alarmingly long stretch of time that was quite fuzzy in my memory. Part of it, in fact, I couldn't remember at all. But for the moment I was conscious and, apparently, my energy levels had stabilized. They were languishing at a very low ebb, though, and I was, therefore, quite exhausted.

Skywarp, on the hand, seemed to be consumed with nervous energy, and he had taken to pacing manically around the small confines of the room in order to work it off. His pacing was just beginning to annoy me, and I was just about to tell him so, when a small movement from the medical berth hijacked my attention, instantly pushing all other thoughts out of my head. It apparently caught Skywarp's attention, too, since he abruptly stopped pacing, whirled around, and approached Starscream's berth. Sliding one thigh up to rest on it and folding his arms across his chest, he settled down to watch Starscream expectantly, waiting. Meanwhile, I wearily pushed myself to my feet, leaning against the bulkhead until the world stopped spinning quite so crazily around me, and then stumbled over to station myself on the opposite side of the berth from Skywarp, leaning against it for support.

Together, Skywarp and I waited nervously for Starscream to regain consciousness. Time was of the essence, of course. The longer the three of us lingered in the medbay – We'd already been there too long, probably – the more likely it was that we'd be discovered before we could even begin to get Starscream out of Decepticon Headquarters. Our already-tiny window of opportunity was getting smaller with each passing second. Skywarp was impatient, too, which wasn't surprising because even under the best of circumstances, impatience was one of Skywarp's overriding personality characteristics.

"C'mon, Sleeping Beauty…" he was saying loudly to Starscream, trying to rouse him. "Time for wakey wakies…"

Starscream let out a feeble groan in response and the hand that was currently resting on his midsection twitched, but that was about as far as he got.

"Maybe you should try kissing him, 'Warp," I suggested, half-seriously. I reasoned that if Starscream was remotely conscious and could hear what we were saying, then the prospect of Skywarp doing as I suggested might just nudge him into full, appalled alertness…

Skywarp, meanwhile, looked over at me, grinning.

With a wink, he said, "You think it'd work? I mean, I _do_ have it on pretty good authority that I'm _really_ good at it and all, but…"

In response to that, I snorted tiredly, opened my mouth to answer…but Starscream beat me to it.

"Don't," he croaked. He was going for a threatening tone, of course, but his voice was horrendously weak, muffled and slurring around his still-broken jaw, and the single word he had uttered gurgled around the energon that was still slowly dripping into his throat despite mine and Skywarp's best efforts to patch up that particular leak.

Starscream sounded truly horrible, yes, but the good news was that he sounded much worse than he looked. At least, I _thought_ that was good news… Oh, he wasn't going to win any beauty contests any time soon, of course. We'd repaired the damage to his head as best we could…but our best wasn't all that good and the results weren't all that attractive. His jaw still hung at a distinctly odd angle, too, since we hadn't had a firm idea as to how to fix that. And we'd had to replace his missing wing with one that had happened to be lying around the medbay, and of course it didn't match the rest of him. It was mostly a dusky shade of lavender, and it clashed horribly with Starscream's red. But at least it would do the job it needed to do. Or so we hoped, at least. And he still had that missing eye, which rather unsettled me. But there was nothing to be done about it. Skywarp had scoured the medbay for a replacement to no avail…and that had inspired him to suggest that we rig some sort of eye patch for Starscream and then re-christen him Long John Silverscream. It was a brief moment of amusement in what had been a long and arduous repair session. It was a moment that was, oddly enough, made funnier – to the point of hysteria, even – by the seriousness of what Skywarp and I had been doing, by the fact that what we were doing could, conceivably, get us both killed. Or worse.

But besides all that, Starscream was still scratched, dented, and burned everywhere, all over his body. There was simply too much damage that wasn't immediately life-threatening; we hadn't the time to fix it all. Repairing Starscream's life-threatening damage and getting him re-energized enough to send him on his way had been the priorities. And, overall, I was fairly certain that we'd fixed enough of Starscream's damage and given him enough energy to allow him to get wherever it was he needed to go…provided that place wasn't halfway around the world.

_Which, of course, it will be_ … one of the voices sighed wearily, feebly at me, but it was as exhausted as I was, apparently, and so it was easily ignored. And Skywarp, thankfully, saved me from having to answer the voice by answering Starscream instead, distracting me in the process.

"Spoilsport," Skywarp was muttering as I refocused my attention on him and Starscream. Skywarp's tone of voice was light, though, joking. He and Starscream didn't often get along at all, but even so, I knew that Skywarp was worried about Starscream now. I could feel his concern for Starscream as strongly as I could feel my own, after all, and I could also tell that his concern shocked Skywarp, too, which I found vaguely amusing, even under the somewhat tense circumstances.

Starscream didn't answer Skywarp, though, no doubt because it probably hurt like hell to talk at all. But he did glare meaningfully at Skywarp for a moment…and then managed to lift a shaking hand to rub gingerly at his face. He shifted just a tiny bit on the medical berth as he did so, too…and a pained wince creased his damaged face in response. I noticed that he sucked back the yelp that wanted to escape him, though. It was, in a way, a good sign. It meant that he was well enough to worry about appearances, after all, rather than being quite beyond caring about such things, as he had been when I'd brought him to the medbay. And after a moment, of course, Starscream's exploring fingers found the empty hole where his eye was supposed to be, and he frowned as he gingerly felt around it.

Utter confusion settled over his expression, and he weakly asked, trying not to move his mouth as much as possible, "What…happened?"

I glanced uncertainly across the berth at Skywarp. I had known that Starscream would ask that question, and I had been dreading it. What the hell were we supposed to say to him? There was no easy or gentle way to inform Starscream of what had happened to him if he couldn't remember it for himself. And Skywarp, of course, had no easy answer to that question, either...

_It's probably better not to be gentle, anyway,_ he thought resignedly at me. _I mean, the whole idea here is to convince him to leave and stay away, right? _

Which was true, but that didn't make things any easier…

_Fine. You tell him, then,_ I thought sourly back at Skywarp.

_Oh no, TC, _Skywarp responded with a wry mental chuckle. _This is all _your_ crazy idea, not mine, remember? _You_ tell him… _

In response, I smirked wordlessly at Skywarp…and Starscream, meanwhile, apparently became annoyed with us, as he usually did when he knew that Skywarp and I were silently communicating, especially if he suspected that he was the topic of discussion.

"Stop that," he hissed at us, weakly smacking Skywarp's arm with the back of one hand to get his attention, staring up at Skywarp expectantly with his one glowering eye. He was probably figuring that Skywarp would be the one to do the talking since Skywarp was usually the ringleader when it came to mischief-making. So it wasn't entirely unexpected that Starscream should look rather surprised when it was I who spoke up rather than Skywarp.

"What do you remember, Starscream?" I asked gently, looking down at him, my concern for him very much evident in my voice…which was deliberate on my part, of course.

For a very long moment, Starscream simply gave me an odd look in response – I suppose he didn't expect a gentle and concerned tone from me, for one thing – but then slowly his expression transmuted itself into a mask of… Well, "abject, unguarded horror" would be just about the only way to describe it. And I knew, then, that Starscream remembered all of it, that he remembered everything. And I certainly didn't have to be bonded to him to sense his remembered terror as it all came back to him in what must have been a horrible, soul-rending rush. It was plain to see on his face and in the sudden tension that held his body in a vice grip.

An odd feeling passed through my own mind as I watched Starscream remember. It was almost as if I could feel what he had experienced, in a way. And, in response, a jumble of emotions ran through my own mind: Pity, horror, revulsion…along with an overriding and powerful anger at Megatron, of course. My fists clenched reflexively at my sides as I fought back that anger…and I think I would have lost that particular battle had Skywarp not intervened…

_Eeeeasy, TC,_ he crooned soothingly in my mind. His voice in my head distracted me…which was a good thing. I looked over at him, met his gaze. His expression was a mixture of understanding, concern for me, and even a touch of foreboding. _Getting all pissed off isn't going to help the situation here…_

Skywarp was right, of course, and his voice and his concern for me steadied me as well, stabilized my anger at a more manageable level. After I managed to calm myself somewhat, I nodded at him in acknowledgment. And as I did so, Starscream finally spoke up. While I'd been fighting with my emotions, he had apparently mastered his own, and his expression, such as it could be with the damage he'd sustained, was now dispassionate and completely closed. His face revealed nothing of his thoughts.

"I…remember…all of it," Starscream managed to wheeze, his voice barely audible, in answer to my earlier question.

Silence hung between the three of us for a moment. I didn't really know what to say to Starscream, and I'm sure that Skywarp felt the same way. But _something_ had to be said, and it was apparently up to me to say it. So I tentatively laid a reassuring hand on the front of Starscream's shoulder nearest to me. It was just about the only place on his entire body that wasn't marred with some sort of damage, so it was the only place that I felt I could touch him without hurting him. And then, gathering my courage, I said what I needed to say to him. And, to my vast surprise, the words came to me and flowed out of my mouth far more easily than I thought they would. They weren't very eloquent – thinking was my thing, not talking – but I hoped that they would get the message across.

"Listen to me, Starscream," I said to him quietly, sincerely, and with almost desperate urgency. "You can't do this anymore. Leave here. And _stay_ away this time, for Primus's sake!"

Obviously taken aback, Starscream had stiffened at the physical contact between us, but he had, surprisingly, made no move to break it, though perhaps that was only because his desire not to move outweighed his discomfort at being touched. He just stared up at me for a long moment before I added, "Let us get you out of here, Starscream."

_Um…What's with this "us" thing, TC_? Skywarp immediately queried in my head. And then, seeing the surprised look I shot his way in response, he added, _Hey, I helped fix him, yeah, but I didn't say I'd go any further than that…_

I sighed exasperatedly and then shot back, _Haveyou ever heard the saying "In for a penny, in for a pound," Skywarp?_

_Heard it, yes, _he answered. _But agree with it, in this case…?_

I just blinked dumbly at Skywarp for a long moment. He had instantly become an integral part of my plan once he'd shown up in the medbay. Or, more accurately, the plan had only occurred to me once Skywarp had arrived. If he backed out on me now, I was…What was that word the humans used? "Screwed" was the word, yes. If Skywarp backed out now, I was well and truly screwed. So I realized it was time to pull out the really big guns…

_C'mon, 'Warp! _I wheedled imploringly_. I _really_ need your help here… Pleeeeeeease?_

I knew Skywarp could never resist me when I begged, no matter what I was begging for, particularly when I used even body language, not just words, to do it. It was a weapon that was all the more powerful precisely because I used it wisely, only hauling it out when I knew I really needed it, when I had no other options available to me. This was one of those times, and I watched as, after a moment or two of deliberation, Skywarp's expression suddenly softened and his shoulders slumped.

_Aw, man, TC_… he finally moaned in defeat. _Did ya _have_ to use the "p" word?_

I smothered the knowing, victorious grin that wanted to pop up on my face and instead whispered to him sincerely, gratefully, _Ahhh, Skywarp…You _are_ the best, indeed…_

He grinned a little at that.

_Yeah…and don't you forget it_, _buster_, he admonished.

_Never, _I answered with utter sincerity…and in response the object of my affection blew me a kiss, one of those odd human gestures he'd managed to acquire just in the relatively short time that we'd been forced to live amongst the species.

I shook my head at Skywarp, amused, but before I could answer him, Starscream smacked _my_ arm this time, glaring meaningfully at me.

Skywarp heaved a long, weary sigh at Starscream but obliged him by asking aloud of me, "So what's this brilliant plan of yours, TC?"

"Who said anything about brilliant?" I responded with a wry chuckle.

"Well, it had _better_ be brilliant," Skywarp asserted, "or else you're gonna get us all killed."

This was true. The trouble was, though, that I wasn't really a planner. I left planning things to leader-types like Megatron. Or Starscream. Or even Skywarp. But now I had two of the above staring at me, waiting for _me_ to come up with something really good, and the expectant expressions on their faces thoroughly unnerved me. I was just about to blurt out that I hadn't the foggiest notion of what to do when something occurred to me, from out of the blue.

So, after a quick check on my chronometer, I said with far more confidence than I felt, "Simple. Megatron and Soundwave are out, off scouting a location for that superlaser thing that Megatron's been drooling over for weeks now, but they're due back in about a half-hour. So, I'll go and raise the docking tower now, so that it'll be waiting for them. You'll give me about a fifteen minute lead, Skywarp, and then you'll teleport yourself and Starscream up there. And then _you," _I said pointedly as I turned toward Starscream,_ "_will fly away. Far, _far_ away. And you will _stay_ away."

By the time I'd finished my speech, both Skywarp and Starscream were regarding me with amusingly similar expressions of horror on their faces.

"Don't look at me like that!" I said to Skywarp before he could say anything, pointing one finger at him almost accusingly. "I know first-hand that you can teleport one other person along with you."

Skywarp blinked at me a few times before answering, "I…can, yes. But you also know first-hand what it does to the teleportee in question. And Screamer here's—"

"—Not in the best shape," Starscream finished weakly, dismally.

"Do you have a _better_ plan then, O Great Air Commander?" I asked sarcastically, turning sharply toward him.

Starscream tried to scowl at me again before he recalled that it wasn't a good idea to do so. So he just regarded me thoughtfully for a moment…and then he laboriously sat up and turned so that his legs were hanging over the side of the berth. His head slumped forward for a long moment as he fought back what was, I imagined, an overwhelming tidal wave of dizziness. But then, finally, Starscream looked up at me and said simply, "No."

So, about ten minutes later, I was wandering – as slowly and as nonchalantly as possible – through the corridors of Decepticon Headquarters, taking a circuitous, unhurried, non-attention-grabbing route to the main docking tower. I passed others in the corridor, nodding casually to some of them here and there as if to say, "Don't mind me. I'm just going about my normal business here. Move along now." Outwardly, I was calm and composed. Inwardly, I felt as if every single person I passed could read my mind and subsequently know exactly what I was doing and why I was doing it, and that they would then run to Megatron to tell him all about it. The paranoid feeling almost made me quicken my pace…but I fought against the impulse. The more rational part of my mind knew that those I passed couldn't possibly know what I was up to. They wouldn't suspect that I, a top-ranked warrior, might go against Megatron's orders, that I might openly defy him, especially in _this_ way.

Oh, if only they knew…

With every step I took in the direction of the docking tower, it seemed I became increasingly nervous and self-conscious, all my senses and reflexes on high alert. It seemed the longest walk that I'd ever taken in my life, but eventually I reached my destination without incident, worked the controls that raised the docking tower about the ocean's surface, waited the few minutes it took for the thing to extend, and then rode the elevator up to the docking bay. It was a long and torturous ride, just as the walk had been…and what I saw when I finally entered the docking bay wasn't all that much easier to deal with, either.

The docking bay was, unsurprisingly, empty but for two occupants. The only people in the bay at the moment were, of course, Skywarp and Starscream. The latter was leaning heavily against the former, and I imagined with much amusement that Skywarp was just loving that.

I'd expected, naturally, that the two of them would be there. That _was_ the plan. And I certainly knew what it felt like to be teleported if you weren't designed to do it, as Skywarp was. "Unsettling" couldn't begin to describe the overwhelming feeling of complete displacement that the experience provoked, and since Starscream was already weakened, I'd known that the ride to the docking tower, even though it had been nearly instantaneous, would be rough on him. So, I wasn't surprised to see Starscream clinging to Skywarp as if his life depended upon it. I knew what he was feeling, after all.

What I certainly _hadn't_ expected, however, was the desperate "Help me!" look and the bond-sent feeling of deep exasperation that Skywarp had shot my way even before I had passed through the docking bay doors.

"He doesn't want to leave," Skywarp announced without preamble as I approached the two of them.

"What?!" I demanded.

Skywarp shrugged and shook his head helplessly. He was just as surprised at the development as I was, apparently.

"He's out of it, I think," he said in a voice just a notch above a whisper, as if he thought that maybe Starscream wouldn't overhear him if he spoke quietly enough. "From the teleport, maybe. Keeps babbling something about a promise he made to Megatron never to go back to whatshisname…Skyfire. I think he's afraid to leave. Or…something."

Skyfire? Well, there was the answer to _that_ question, at least… Skywarp and I had just recently been speculating about where Starscream disappeared to for days at a time sometimes…and why he came back in more or less perfect condition. Skyfire made a certain amount sense. They had history; they had been friends, before the war. While it seemed to me that Starscream had broken off the friendship in a rather spectacular sort of way, perhaps he'd had a change of heart or something. _And_ I hadn't seen Skyfire hanging around the Autobots much in…in… Well, in a long time. So, mystery solved.

Meanwhile, I heaved a thoroughly exasperated sigh. We'd come this far, so there was no way we were going to turn back now. Besides, at that moment I didn't see that there were any viable alternatives. If there had been alternatives, after all, I wouldn't have done anything about Starscream in the first place. And now, quite simply, we didn't have time for doubts and hesitation…which was something that I might have found ironic, given my proclivity toward both, if I'd had the time to do so. But I didn't have that time. For whatever reason, right at that moment, the docking bay was empty…but it wasn't likely to remain that way. If nothing else, Megatron was due back soon…

Turning to Starscream, I regarded him critically. He was still leaning against Skywarp, his forehead resting against the top of Skywarp's shoulder, apparently too weak or disoriented – or both – to stand on his own. A thin stream of energon was flowing from the corner of his mouth that I could see, dripping down Skywarp's chest. I doubted that Skywarp had noticed, or he probably would have pushed Starscream away in disgust. Starscream wasn't in the best of shape either physically or, apparently, in his mind. But I knew that he had to leave. Had to. _Now_. There was simply no two ways about it…

So, as gently as my impatience would allow – which wasn't very gentle – I pulled Starscream away from Skywarp, turning him to face me and forcing him to stand on his own. He swayed in place, and his head hung limply forward, and the stream of energon dripping from his mouth pattered in what seemed an obscenely loud fashion against the deckplates…but he could apparently stand on his own. So, suddenly determined, I reached out and lifted Starscream's chin, raising his disoriented gaze to mine.

"Listen to me, Starscream," I said to him with I'm-not-taking-no-for-an-answer urgency. "You have to leave _now._ It's your only chance. If you don't, if Megatron comes back and you're still here, he's going to finish you off. You have to see that. And you have just enough energy and are functioning just barely well enough to get you where you need to go."

Or so I hoped, anyway. Starscream just blinked at me, but my words, judging by the expression on his face, were getting through to him. For a moment, he twisted so that he could glance longingly over his shoulder at the open docking bay door, but I could tell that he was still undecided. So, I launched one final volley. Moving my hand from under his chin down to his shoulder, I gave it an encouraging, comforting squeeze. Starscream looked sharply back at me then, surprise registering on his battered face, but I spoke again before he could say anything.

"Skyfire is your only chance at life right now, Starscream," I said quietly and, hopefully, persuasively. 'Take it. While you still can."

It was silent for a long moment, while Starscream stared at me in…wonder? Disbelief? Exasperation? It was hard to tell, really, as broken as his face was. Skywarp, meanwhile, broke the silence with exaggerated sniffling noises.

"Gee, TC…" he burbled mockingly at me. "That was so…so _beautiful_!"

Starscream glanced at Skywarp and tried to smile – or scowl; one of the two – but couldn't quite manage it. Meanwhile, I found myself disconcerted by what I'd just said and, ignoring Skywarp's joking, hastily jerked my hand away from Starscream's shoulder, straightened my own shoulders, and said hurriedly and more gruffly even than usual, "Well, the _least_ you can do is leave, since we risked ourselves to get you out of here, you know…"

"What TC means to say, Screamer," Skywarp added lightly, "is to stop being such a moron and get the hell outta here before I kick your sorry aft end into that nice, cold ocean down there."

In response to that, Starscream aimed a narrow-eyed glare at Skywarp for a moment, and then he glanced at me with an unreadable expression on his face. He lowered his head for a moment, thinking, before raising it again, meeting my gaze levelly. And this time, determination showed on his face.

Just barely audibly, his voice gurgling around the energon still accumulating in his throat, he murmured, "Thank you." He glanced quickly at Skywarp and added, "Thank you both."

I nodded solemnly at Starscream and then silently jerked my head toward the open docking bay door, my expression encouraging. And with that, Starscream walked unsteadily, staggering once before catching himself, toward the bay door. He lingered a moment at the edge of the extended landing platform outside, pausing to glance just once over his shoulder at Skywarp and me, as we stood side by side in the doorway, watching him. And then he leaped. His takeoff was weak, and he plummeted almost to the surface of the ocean far below before ungracefully pulling himself up so that he was skimming at most a few meters above the swells. From there, he slowly and determinedly gained altitude. Had he been anyone but Starscream, though, I doubted that he'd have been able to fly at all. As it was, I figured that desperation mixed with Starscream's customary stubbornness were all that was keeping him aloft.

I watched Starscream fly off, my arms folded tightly across my chest, my thoughts swirling through my mind like a tornado, second guesses floating against my will to the surface. Skywarp, meanwhile, was standing silently next to me. His posture was relaxed, but he was regarding me with solemn concern heavy in his expression. After a moment, he turned to me, reaching out to run one hand comfortingly up and down my upper arm.

"You OK?" he asked quietly of me when I didn't noticeably respond to his touch. His voice, as quiet as it was, still echoed off the walls of the large, empty docking bay.

"Do you think we just did the right thing, Skywarp?" I asked softly.

Skywarp just looked at me, his face the very portrait of uncertainty for a moment. But that moment passed an instant later, and my beloved self-confident mate was suddenly back again.

He sighed deeply, squared his shoulders, and said, "I'll admit that I'm not thrilled about it." He paused then and laid one comforting, concerned hand softly against my cheek. "But I know that _you_ care about all of this, Thundercracker," he said tenderly. "And I'm tired of seeing you torn up by it. If getting Starscream out of here once and for all for whatever reason stops that tearing up, then…Yeah, I think we did the right thing."

The look on Skywarp's face as he said those words to me was openly concerned, loving…and somehow achingly vulnerable because of it. Skywarp wasn't usually one for such serious and emotional sorts of confessions, so I wouldn't have expected him to say something like that in a million years. I stared back at Skywarp, smiling slightly, warmed by his concern for me. I lifted my hand to take the one of his that was still resting against my cheek, and gave it a thankful squeeze.

"Thank you, Skywarp. For…everything," I said simply but with heartfelt sincerity.

He smiled at that and gave my hand a return squeeze.

"You're welcome, love," he said, equally simply and with equal sincerity. "Come on," he added, tugging me toward the elevators at the end of the corridor. "Let's go home."

I was all too happy to follow him. He didn't need to do much insistent tugging on my arm in order to get to me moving. For one thing, the thought of a nice long recharge cycle was a very enticing one, given that I'd been drained of a hefty percentage of my energy reserves. But the thought of distancing myself from the day's events – not to mention the idea of spending the rest of the day in seclusion with Skywarp – was even more attractive. And, for that matter, I realized as Skywarp and I stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut behind us that I was, for once in my life, happy. Tired, yes. Exhausted, even. But happy, nevertheless. After all, I had managed to do a good thing today. So, for that moment in time, as Skywarp and I rode the elevator down to Headquarters and then headed toward our quarters, I could honestly say that I was satisfied and happy, so much so that I could easily ignore the voices in my head that pessimistically wondered just how long that happiness would last.


	18. Chapter 17

**_"What's going on...? What happened...?"_**  
_Starscream in "The Insecticon Syndrome"_

_Freedom. Leaving... Going... Going where? _

_To Skyfire, yes. Always to Skyfire. _

_Poor Skyfire. Waiting. Waiting for me. Always waiting for me. I make him wait for me. Always. _

_Free-falling...falling...falling. No, not supposed to be free-falling. Fly, stupid. _

_OK. Flying now. Thrusters are working...sort of...but I'm still falling. _Why_ am I still _falling

_Ocean...ocean...lots of ocean... Big swells. Whitecaps. Spray. _

_Whoa! Way too close if I'm feeling spray! Pull up, pull up, pull _up

_Up! Up, dammit! Up! _

_There. Better. Leveling off. Still not nearly high enough but this is good for now. We'll get where we need to be. Eventually. Slow and steady, Starscream, slow and steady is the only way to fly now... _

_Climb now...Keep going up... Up a little more. There, yes. There you go. Good. Good enough, anyway. _

**_… _**

_**… **_

**_… _**_Where am I going? Where am I _now

_Navigation. Need navigation… No navigation. Great. _

_Need the sun, then. What _time _is it? _

_7:30. Morning. Sun is over there. So…going exactly the _wrong_ way, Starscream…_

_Southwest. I remember that I need southwest. Coordinates... Do I remember the coordinates…? Yes, I do. But…no instruments. No navigation. So just…fly. It's all you can do, Starscream. Southwest. Fly southwest, and you'll find it. You _have_ to find it… _

_That new wing isn't holding up well. Unstable. Weak. Weak like me. Don't think it'll hold for long, definitely not all the way to Indonesia. What do I do when it goes…? _

_No, don't think about that now. Don't think about that _ever_. Just fly. Keep flying. Keep going… _

_Two hours to your destination, Starscream. Assuming that you can find it at all. Two hours... _

_Primus, two hours is way too long. I'm not going to make it. I'm definitely not going to make it. That wing…it's not going to hold. It's going to go, it's going to tear loose, it's loose already, I can feel it, and I'll lose control and…and…_

_…and I'm going to die. I don't want die, but I'm going to die. Die, die, die. Crash into the ocean. Sink. Die. Never make it, Starscream, never make it. _

_Foolish to even try this. Should have stayed. Should have stayed at Headquarters. Not safe there, but it was safer than I am now, out here, alone, damaged. Damn Thundercracker and his crazy ideas. But…can't turn around now…Way too late to turn around. It's way too late for many things… _

_**… **_

**_… _**

_**… **Energon levels draining...draining...Why are they draining? They weren't draining like this an hour and a half ago. Something broke. Something must have broken. That must be it. Broke. Torn. _

_Draining. _

_Tired…so tired. Can't keep going but I have to keep going… Have to find Skyfire, have to keep going… _

_Falling... I'm falling again. _

_Whoa! Spray again. UP! _

_Up...and up again... and still more up. Up, up, and away, Starscream, up, up, and away. _

_There. Stay there. Have to stay there. Altitude is good, falling is bad. Have to hold on. Still have a long way to go yet... Can't fall. Can't crash. Have to stay...right...here. No falling. No more falling. Don't want to die... _

_But...draining. _

_Weak. _

_Not going to make it. But I _have_ to make it. Have to… _

_Skyfire. Where is he? Need to find him. Need help. Can't go on much longer and he has to be around here somewhere because there's Bali. I recognize it. That shape. I know the shape of that place. And Skyfire's island isn't far from Bali… But I don't remember where to go from here. Not really. Which direction? How far? _

_I don't remember, I can't think, I have no navigation, no scanners, no instruments. Gone. It's all gone. _

_Going to die. Hardly any energon. Still draining. Leaking from somewhere. Lots and lots of it leaking from somewhere, draining way too fast. Leaking into the ocean below like I will eventually fall into the ocean. _

_Need to fix it, find the leak, fix the leak...but no diagnostics. No navigation, no scanners, no...nothing. _

_I need Skyfire. Die without him. He said go to him, Thundercracker said go to him, and I went. I'm going. Need him. Always need him. Have to find him. Have to..._

_How? How do I find him? Don't know. Fly. Keep flying. Stop falling and fly. _

_Think, Starscream. _Think!

_Skyfire found me once, up in the Arctic. Seems like so long ago but it wasn't, not really. Said he used the bond to find me, that it was still there, still active, still _alive_. Not dead. Not dead like I will be. But he lied. He must have lied. He had to have lied. The bond doesn't work anymore. It _can't _work anymore. Too old, too long, too much. _

_But wait. _I_ used it once, too. So long ago... No, not so long ago. Not long ago at all. I used it the first time I found him on his island, only just last year…I think. I just knew where he was. Just concentrated and…knew. _

_Concentrate now, Starscream. Concentrate… Concentrate and…and… _

_There! He's there. He's over there. That's his island over that way. Right over there. Can't be more than a hundred kilometers… _

_Bank, bank! Bank _left_, dammit, not right. Left. There you go. Go. Keep going. Concentrate… _

_… _

_…_

_…Beeping. My thoughts…fuzzy…can't think straight. Can't concentrate anymore but it's OK because that's Skyfire's island there. Right there. Right in front of me. I can see it…sort of… I can make it. _

_Maybe._

_Or maybe not… _

_What_ is_ that infernal noise? Oh. Beeping. Right. Dangerously low energon levels. That's what the beeping is trying to tell me. Warning me… _

_The wing. There it goes. Gone. It's gone. Just now. Just tore right off. It should have been painful. Probably _was_ painful, but… Can't feel anything anymore. Can't feel anything, can't _do_ anything. Paralyzed. Panicked. The wing's falling into the ocean and I'm spiraling, following it down, down, down… _

_Out of control. No hope of control. More beeping. Warning. Spiraling. Screaming. Crashing. _

_Ocean, meet Starscream. Starscream, meet— _

_What was _that_? Big white thing, whipping by me, around me. _

_No time to think. No time to identify. The ocean…It's all I see now. The swells are back, the whitecaps are back, now the spray is back. It's cold. _

_Can't pull up this time. No resources left. No hope. No reprieve. Ocean swirling up to meet me, plunging into cold. _

_Into darkness. _

_Into silence. _

_Into death. _


	19. Chapter 18

**_"What are friends for?"_**  
_Skyfire in "Fire on the Mountain" _

I gently set Starscream down on the portable exam table that Jazz had recently brought me during one of his regular supply runs and began to inventory his various injuries. I discovered that, in short, he was a hideous mass of twisted, bleeding metal. One of his wings was gone; I had watched it tear off and fall into the ocean as I'd flown desperately toward Starscream, trying to reach him before he'd crashed into the ocean along with the severed wing.

And the wing wasn't the only thing missing. I didn't know if they'd been missing before or if they'd been torn off when he'd impacted the surface of the ocean, but many other large pieces of Starscream's body were now missing, too. One optic had been torn out of his face, his jaw was shattered so that his mouth hung askew, and there were gashes and burns of varying degrees of severity all over his body, the gashes sizzling angrily with invading sea water.

Starscream's injury inventory seemed depressingly endless, and I knew it was beyond my ability to address all of it. I'd seen Autobots with far less severe battle injuries die before anyone had been able to bring them to Ratchet's medbay. How Starscream had managed to fly here at all in his condition was a mystery far beyond my understanding. How he was still alive despite all of his open wounds and his brief dip into the Pacific was even farther beyond me.

I knew that Starscream had not been in any battles. At least, he hadn't been in the sort of battle that those aforementioned Autobots had been in when they had sustained their injuries. Starscream's injuries were mostly Megatron's work, not the ocean's, and even though I had been dealing with the situation for almost a full year now, I still didn't understand it. Not _really_. And as I looked down at the broken, mutilated body that housed the spark of my bondmate, I wondered for a moment if all of my efforts over that length of time had been at all worth it.

At the thought, I clenched my fists and turned away from Starscream, taking a few steps away from him, giving myself some space to clear my mind and gather my thoughts. Staring out across the tranquilly rolling ocean waves, I asked myself, certainly not for the first time, how much more of this situation I could realistically withstand. I recalled telling Jazz that I would wait however long it took to reach Starscream and to bring him back to me. I had been buoyed by confidence at the time, utterly certain that I could withstand years, decades if necessary of this incessant waiting…but for a treacherous moment it occurred to me that perhaps that certainty had instead been an idealistic dream, a delusion that I'd been leaning on in order to keep myself sane during the long weeks that I'd spent on this Primus-forsaken island, waiting…waiting.

Because at that moment, as I stood there with my back to Starscream, contemplating…everything…I knew that he was going to die. In fact, he might as well have already been dead because I knew that even _if_ he survived this latest batch of injuries that Megatron had inflicted upon him and even _if_ I managed to nurse him back to some semblance of health once again despite the limited resources at my disposal and my limited medical skills, he'd only find some excuse to run right back to Megatron, just as he had every single time he'd been here so far.

And then the whole sick cycle would begin again, putting us all back exactly where we had started. Either that, or the cycle would finally end with Megatron finally doing away with Starscream in some brutal fashion that I didn't even want to contemplate.

Over the past few months, I had often acknowledged the futility of my efforts, if only for a fleeting moment. All of those times, I had managed to convince myself to forge ahead, that my efforts meant something, that one day in some distant theoretical idealized future, Starscream would realize the desperation of his situation, enough so to do something about changing it. But now, faced with a gargantuan repair effort that I wasn't sure was entirely within my abilities to accomplish… Well, now that feeling of futility was almost overwhelming.

I turned my gaze up to the sky, which was bright and cloudlessly blue and incredibly, perversely, perhaps even _mockingly_ beautiful. I found that it called to me. More than anything, at that very moment, I just wanted to fly away, to be free of Starscream and of this nightmarish situation once and for all. The pull of the sky was intoxicating. The freedom I would have if I were to abandon Starscream was incredibly tempting. I could return to Cybertron…or go somewhere where no one had ever heard of a Transformer. And all it would take was one little internal command…

_Transform, Skyfire_ , an inner voice whispered seductively to me. _Transform and leave him and never look back… _The voice was loud, insistent…and I knew that it would be so very easy to obey its urging. It would be so easy to be _free_ forever… I was turning the possibilities over in my mind, imagining where I would go and what I would do, fighting to convince myself to just _do_ it, to just fly away and never see Starscream again, to leave him here to die alone and abandoned as he perhaps deserved, to never even _think_ about him again…when a soft groan from behind me interrupted my efforts.

The sound of Starscream's groan immediately snapped me out of my rebellious thoughts, and I found myself instantly crouched at his side, all thoughts of flying away and abandoning him having abruptly disappeared from my mind, as if they had never existed in the first place. Once again, I knew exactly where I was supposed to be…and that place was right where I was at that very moment: At Starscream's side, supporting him whatever the cost, no matter what.

Gently, I took Starscream's undamaged hand in mine as he wheezed and coughed and generally fought his way toward consciousness with, as usual, seemingly single-minded determination. With the other hand, I soothingly stroked the less-damaged side of his face, crooning words of comfort to him, encouraging him to relax, assuring him that I would help him, that he was safe, that I would make the hurting stop.

"You need to shut down and go into repair stasis now, love," I whispered softly, soothingly as I leaned over him, the endearment slipping out of my mouth without me noticing it. "You're safe. It's all right."

Starscream's raspy voice and mangled face made his words, when he spoke them, distorted and hard to understand. His one good optic flickered as the little bit of energon he had left was drawn from more vital systems in order to power his speech and vision centers as he whispered back to me, dazed and yet at the same time slightly panicked, "But…I don't remember…who I am."

"Listen to me, Starscream," I said urgently, alarmed that he was wasting energon needlessly by remaining conscious in order to speak to me. "You are severely damaged. _Please_ shut down now. We'll talk later, I promise."

Starscream looked at me after I said that, just looked at me with a confused expression on his face, as if he hadn't understood a word that I'd said. For my part, I was worried; I knew that if Starscream didn't shut down very soon, he would end up in systemic overload. And if that happened, there would be nothing I could do about it, particularly not with the resources, such as they were, that I had at hand. Starscream's spark would just quietly and slowly expire, fade away to nothingness. All that would be left to do would be to watch him die. I couldn't do that, certainly not now, not now that I'd put so much effort over the past year into keeping him alive.

"But…I have to…have to _know_…" Starscream was continuing to protest feebly, his voice shaking as much as his shattered body was.

And it was then that a loud beeping sound began to emanate from Starscream's chest. I looked down, through his shattered cockpit window, and there, inside of him, a tiny red light was blinking frantically. It was a warning signal, and it was trying to tell Starscream that he was going into systemic overload. Starscream, however, seemed oblivious to it. Either that, or he was beyond the point of caring…

"No more talking, Starscream!" I yelled at him. "Shut down _NOW!_" I added, more out of desperation than anger. But my voice must have sounded angry to Starscream because he winced as if he thought he were going to be attacked and then gave me a look of utter sadness and betrayal before promptly shutting down. And after a few tense moments, the bleeping red light ceased its urgent warning and all was quiet once again. I took a deep, relieved breath and then bent forward thankfully, so that I could touch my forehead against Starscream's shoulder.

"Primus, Starscream, why do you _do _this?" I fervently asked of him, even though I knew that he could no longer hear me.

There was so much I didn't understand about Starscream, so much confusion, so much pain. But once again I had to set aside those thoughts and emotions and concentrate solely on the massive repair job that loomed in front of me. As I wearily made my way to the trailer that contained the parts I'd need to repair Starscream's damage as best I could, I glanced up at the sky again. It was still beautiful and still blue…and there was still that little part of me that wanted to just leave, to get away from the hellish situation I had decided to enter. But I also knew, as I gazed up at the sky, that I could never desert Starscream. The probability of Megatron eventually killing him seemed higher than ever now, and I fully realized that I was perhaps all that stood between Starscream and a painful, ignominious death. Again I knew, deep down, that I was where I needed to be, where I was _supposed_ to be, that I was doing what I was supposed to be doing.

With that thought in mind, I retrieved the components I needed from the trailer, heaved a long, preparatory sigh, and got to work.

* * *

A little over five hours had passed since I'd begun my repair efforts. In that time, I had managed to stabilize his vital systems, so that he was no longer in danger of imminent death. It had been a long and arduous process, and I was practically reeling with mental and physical exhaustion. I was entertaining thoughts of taking a break, of shutting down just for a little while so that I could afterwards address the issue of Starscream's remaining damage with a fresh mind and a rested spark.

Starscream, as usual, had other ideas.

I had just finished setting and patching Starscream's shattered jaw back together as well as I could when his one remaining optic flickered stubbornly on, glowing dully but steadily crimson at me. Starscream tilted his head slightly and looked up at me blankly, as if he didn't recognize me. Indeed, at the moment I realized that he didn't recognize me at all.

"Who am I?" he mumbled quietly, his voice still hoarse and raspy.

That same odd question again, and I still didn't understand why he was asking it of me. Did he really not know who he was, or was he just suffering from memory glitches due to the many blows to his head that he'd suffered? I leaned over so that he could see my face a little better and smiled reassuringly down at him.

"If I answer that question, will you promise to go back into recharge?" I asked calmly of him.

Starscream heaved a stifled, pained gasp as he finally realized who I was.

"Skyfire…" he murmured wonderingly. "How…?"

"Never mind that," I soothed him reassuringly. "Just answer my question."

Starscream's ravaged face did its best to pull itself into a frown as he asked, "What question?"

"If I tell you who I think you are," I repeated patiently, "will you promise to go back into recharge?" After all, Starscream was still far from being at the point where he could be safely conscious again, and I still had a lot of work to do. But perhaps if I answered his question, he'd have some peace; somehow I knew that the question he'd asked of me was of vital importance to him, for it had all of the earmarks of a ritual question. I knew that he likely wouldn't rest until he'd dragged an answer out of me. He was – always had been – horribly stubborn that way.

So, I watched as Starscream slowly nodded an affirmative, acquiescing to my conditions, while I put down my tools and again took his hand in mine, taking a few moments to gather my thoughts. Starscream didn't pull away from my touch. In fact, he didn't react at all; he merely watched me expectantly, his one eye staring unblinkingly at me from out of his ruined face. I realized, though, that this was an opportunity for me: If Starscream wanted to know who he was…Well, then by Primus, I was _certainly_ going to tell him.

"Hmmm, who is Starscream…?" I murmured carefully considering exactly the right words to say to him. "Well, you, Starscream, are one of my oldest and dearest friends. You are a brilliant scientist and an intrepid explorer. You are also a skilled warrior and a gifted tactician. But most importantly, you are my precious bondmate. You complete me, and I will always, always love you, no matter what happens. You, Starscream, are the most important person in the universe to me. You are everything to me."

Starscream just stared at me blankly as I finished speaking, as if I had suddenly begun to speak a different language that he couldn't comprehend. He stared at me that way, his mouth twisting in deep thought, for quite a long time as he processed what I'd said. The silence stretched between us, to the point that I was just about to ask him if he had heard what I'd said, when Starscream finally decided to speak up.

"Well…" he murmured quietly, perplexed. "That's…different."

I smiled at that, although I was certain that he wasn't looking at me.

"Perhaps it's different than what you are used to hearing, Starscream," I said sincerely, "but it is the truth." Having said that, though, I could only imagine the horrible things that Megatron would say to him – probably _did_ say to him, if I was right that Starscream's "Who am I?" question was a ritual one -- if Starscream asked of him that same question. So I added, "Anyone who has told you differently has been lying to you."

Starscream gave me an odd look after that addendum. I could tell that he didn't believe me, but I had no idea what I could say to convince him that I was, indeed, telling him the truth.

"It's _not_ the truth," Starscream was saying dejectedly, meanwhile. He turned his head away from me as he added, "You just don't see things the way they really are, Skyfire. You see them as they _used_ to be. You see them as you _want_ them to be. You've always been that way."

I was confused, and I wanted to hear more. But I could tell by the way Starscream was talking that he was tired, that I should just allow the subject drop for now, let him slip quietly back into repair mode so that he could heal. And then, we could talk about all of this further. This, I knew intellectually…

But, on the other hand, I was so very hungry for answers. I wanted so badly to understand why Starscream had become the person that he was, why he had chosen to live the life that he was living, and it seemed to me that now, if I asked the right questions, I might finally get some clear answers. So, I decided to risk keeping Starscream conscious a little while longer, so that maybe, just maybe, I could _finally_ have some answers to some of the questions that had been plaguing me since… Well, ever since I had been reactivated after my time spent buried in the Arctic. I could finally have some peace, some closure.

"So why don't you tell me all about the way things _really_ are, then, Starscream?" I quietly urged of Starscream, who had lapsed into staring listlessly off into space, trying, apparently to shut me out. "Tell me so that I can understand." I gently stroked his hand to reassure him as I spoke, but he suddenly jerked it angrily out of my grasp.

"I belong to Megatron now," he said sullenly, turning his head back to glare balefully at me. "And I always will. Don't you _see_, Skyfire? I owe _everything_ to him because he…he…"

It was at that point that Starscream's entire body began to tremble. In his weakened condition, it was not surprising. I knew he needed to rest…but I couldn't let him go just yet. I was pushing him, I knew, and some part of me was screaming at me to stop and an even larger part of me was flinching with guilt for pressuring him to talk, but this – Starscream offering cryptic answers to my questions and me being satisfied with his riddles – had gone on for far too long.

I needed to _know, _once and for all.

"Starscream, look at me," I said softly, reaching over to cup his chin and very gently turn his head so that I could once again see his one dimly-glowing optic. "Tell me why you think you owe Megatron so much," I asked of him. "I need to know. I need to understand. You owe that to _me_."

Starscream scowled at that and then stared at me for a long moment after I'd asked that question, so long that I found myself wondering what was going through his mind. I wished at that moment that we still had the easy mental communion that we'd had back on Cybertron, before I'd been separated from him. If we'd still had that communion, I would have been able to know instantly what he was thinking at any given moment, without having to pry answers out of him that he didn't want to give me. As it was, I had to wait for him to decide to tell me, something that he was apparently quite reluctant to do.

"Fine," he said, finally, calmly. "You've been…kind to me," he added, "so if you really want to know, I'll tell you. You won't like what I have to say."

He paused then, and I nodded, encouraging him and acknowledging that I was willing to listen to what he had to say.

"I owe Megatron," he said firmly, "because he made me forget about _you_. And I needed that more that anything in --"

Interrupting what he was saying, Starscream groaned in pain, his back arching slightly as he wrestled with it. He was at the point, now, where he was feeling the pain of his injuries again. Before, it had likely been so severe that he had simply been blocking it out, and had eventually become numb to it. But now that he was recovering slowly, those pain-numbed areas of his body were beginning to awaken and announce their complaints. He was clenching his jaw tightly, likely to avoid crying out in pain, and I noticed that tiny beads of energon were beginning to form along the fresh seal I'd used to repair his jaw. Alarmed that I was distressing him so badly, that I might be undoing all of the meticulous repair work I had done so far, I relented in my interrogation of him. As much as I wanted to know more about what Starscream was thinking and feeling, what had happened to him after he had lost me, I couldn't bring myself to ask him more questions that would only serve to bring him more pain. Starscream was simply in no shape to be alert and active right now.

"All right, all right. I think I understand now, Starscream," I hurriedly soothed him, reaching out to stroke his forehead reassuringly. "Now you should shut down and rest so that I can—"

"No!" Starscream interrupted savagely, raising one arm to bat my hand away from him. "No, you still don't understand, Skyfire! You still don't know who I really am. And you have to know. You have to know…what I've done."

I tried to forestall him by murmuring that he'd done nothing that could change how I felt for him, but he was having none of it. Starscream had whipped himself into a pain-maddened frenzy, and he was determined to say what was on his mind.

He took a few deep, shaking breaths and then continued, despite my attempts to quiet him, "I tried to kill you, Skyfire. Did you know that? And I _wanted_ to kill you, you know. I wanted that very badly, and I've wanted to for a long time. I've even given Megatron the coordinates of this island. And if it weren't for Thundercracker practically pushing me off the docking ramp, I probably wouldn't be here even now. I'd be dead, and I'm sure that Megatron would be coming after you. I—"

A fit of uncontrollable coughing and wincing in pain interrupted Starscream's tirade, and I was becoming concerned. It wasn't because of the disquieting things that Starscream had said so much as simply regretting what I'd started. Starscream was only upsetting himself with all of these confessions, and that wasn't something that he needed, as weakened as he was. Rather than responding to what he was saying – although I knew that I would chew on his words for a long time to come, once I'd managed to get him settled down – I simply tried to convince him to go back into repair mode.

"Starscream, you need to—" I began to say.

"_No_!" he insisted again, still intent on continuing his desperate explanation despite my protests. "Listen to me, Skyfire. I once promised you that I would never leave, no matter what happened. But I did. I left you here, alone, helpless, for ten million years, even though I knew that you were still alive. And then, just recently I promised Megatron that I would never see you again…but here I am. And then I promised myself that I would rid myself of you and be happy about it, but I failed at that, too. My life…it's just one failure after another, one lie after another. Utterly worthless…"

Starscream was quiet for a long while after his voice trailed away on that final thought. His entire body, out to his wing tips, twitched convulsively every now and then, quite out of his control, before he finally stilled and quieted, completely drained. I just sat there in that silence that was broken only by his attempts to laboriously draw air into his systems. I was trying to absorb all that Starscream had said to me…

After a long while, I started to get up, thinking that perhaps he had decided to shut down after all. But before I could raise myself to my feet, Starscream uttered a few more desolate, despairing words, words that froze me to the spot where I was sitting and that tore at my spark in a way that I had never known before.

"Let me die, Skyfire," Starscream murmured sadly, almost not loudly enough to be heard. "There is no good reason why I should continue to exist. Please… Just let me die. Let me go. End this ."

"What?" was all I could manage to say in response, as incredibly stupid and inadequate as that was. I had been caught off-guard. I had never heard Starscream speak quite in the way that he had just spoken before, and certainly I hadn't heard him speak in such a lifeless, listless, hopeless tone of voice…and I didn't know how to respond to it. I was unprepared for what he had said. And worse, I could tell that he was completely serious. So, frightened beyond words by the abject despair in his voice, I simply stared down at him, stricken with horror and a growing fear as he continued to speak.

"I'm so tired of living this way, Skyfire…" Starscream moaned, heedless of my reaction to his words, so absorbed in his own thoughts he was. "My life is over. It's been over ever since I lost you, ever since I left you on Earth, helpless. I know that. I do. But I still keep trying to pretend that I'm alive, you see, and all I ever do… All I do is make a mess of things. But I thought I was doing so well, you know? There I was, the star of the War Academy, then second-in-command of the Decepticons. And I even thought that Megatron cared about me. But…I wasn't doing well…I wasn't doing the right thing…and he doesn't care about me. So this is what I deserve. And you deserve to be free of me, to be free of this nightmare that I've put you through. So just…don't repair me anymore, all right, Skyfire? Please stop fixing me and just go away. Just leave me."

For what seemed a very long time, I sat there, speechless. I stared down at Starscream in a stunned silence. I was stunned not because of what he'd told me to do – He'd told me to do exactly what I'd been tempted to do before I had begun to work on repairing him. Rather, it was the tone of his voice that frightened me. Never had Starscream seemed so hopeless, and never had he seemed so…distant from me, not even in the Arctic when I had first been reactivated and I hadn't understood that millions of years had passed and that Starscream, during those long years, had changed. I had promised never to give up on him…but what if he had decided to give up on himself? That was a possibility that I hadn't considered…

"But I…I can't just…I can't leave you, Starscream," I said very quietly, my voice shaking with the overwhelming emotions that were assaulting my spark.

"I'm sorry, Skyfire," Starscream was continuing to say, as if he hadn't heard me. Which he probably hadn't; his voice was an almost monotone drone, as if he'd completely separated himself from me and from what he was saying to me. "I'm sorry you ever met me. I'm sorry that you ever had to be bonded to someone as worthless as me. I'm sorry for what I've done to you. I'm sorry for leaving you all alone on this planet. I'm sorry for everything, but I know it's not enough. I broke my promise to you when I left you, Skyfire. I swore that I'd never leave you, but I did just that. And I know that can never be forgiven."

"But Starscream…"

"And then I met Megatron," Starscream continued, again as if he didn't hear what I'd said to him, as if he no longer knew, even, that I was there. "I convinced myself that you were dead, even though I _knew_ that you were not dead, and I took Megatron as my mate. I made myself forget about you. I don't know why I did such a thing, Skyfire. I…I don't know _why_. All I know is that I…_hate_…Starscream. I hate who I am, and I hate what I've become. And I know why everyone else hates me, too. I don't deserve you, Skyfire. I don't even deserve to live anymore. I--"

He was becoming hysterical. Guilt seemed to be eating him alive. I knew that I needed to calm him down somehow…but I had no idea how to do that. So, I did the first thing that occurred to me, hoping that it might possibly be enough. Leaning over, I reached down and gently lifted Starscream's upper body, cradling him in my arms, trying to comfort him.

"Shhh…" I crooned to him. "Calm down, Starscream. Please calm down."

"No! Leave me alone, Skyfire!" he yelled as he struggled futilely in my grasp. "Stop!"

"I will _not_ leave you alone, Starscream," I insisted fiercely, holding him tightly yet as gently as possible against me. "I will _never_ leave you. Why don't you understand that?"

Starscream stopped struggling then and, gasping for breath after his struggles, he lay still in my arms and gazed sadly into my eyes with his one undamaged eye. "But I want you to go away! You don't understand… Why won't you _just go away_?" he asked in a hopeless and plaintive tone of voice.

"Because I _love_ Starscream," I assured him emphatically, with a smile. "I always have, and I always will."

Starscream, for the moment, seemed content to absorb my words, contemplating them quietly while still staring sadly up at me.

"But…_why?_" he eventually wanted to know, both his tone of voice and the expression on his face pleading, as if he was desperate to understand why I didn't hate him as much as he hated himself.

I knew that he wasn't asking me that question lightly. And I also knew that unless I convinced him that I truly did love him and clearly explained why I did so, he would never believe me, and he would continue down the self-hating, self-berating path that he'd begun, to its bitter and tragic end. So, for a long moment, I considered my words carefully. And when I spoke, I made sure that my voice was soft and my words sincere.

"Because the past doesn't matter to me anymore," I said quietly to Starscream, resting my chin on the top of his head as he lay in my arms, absorbing my words and seeming to cling to them as if he would drown without them. "The choices you made in the past don't have any bearing on my feelings for you in the present. I've _never_ held anything against you, Starscream, and I'm not angry with you now. You say that there is no forgiveness for what you've supposedly done to me, but I say that there is really nothing for me to forgive. I love you right _now,_ and I will love you just as much a million years from now. Just let me help you, Starscream, just…let me love you."

After all those millions of years of harboring such terrible guilt, of having it eat away at his spark, it was no wonder he was tired of living, too tired to go on. I didn't know what else to say to him, so I just drew his body closer to mine so that I was hugging him against me. He had stopped struggling, but his body was still tense, refusing to relax into my embrace.

"_Please_ Starscream," I pleaded with him. "Just accept what I have to give you. Let go of this guilt. There is no place for it here, and it only serves to hurt you more. I need you, Starscream, please stay with me."

And then, just as my voice broke and trailed off, I could feel Starscream's one hand touch me softly on my chest, watched in delight as he slowly, reluctantly reached up and wrapped his arms around my neck. His grip wasn't tight, but it was probably the best that he could do, under the circumstances.

"That's it, love," I whispered softly, encouragingly, to him. "I'm here for you. I'm right here, and I love you. I won't hurt you, Starscream. Let go of the pain and guilt and just trust that I love you and that you're safe. It's all right…I'm here…I'm here…"

His arms tightened around my neck as I murmured "I'm here" over and over again. He let out a wordless cry of anguish as he held on to me with all the strength he could muster. And then, drawing upon some inexplicable source of strength, he managed to pull himself up so that he could rest his head on my shoulder as he clung to me. Now that he was resting against me, I sensed his consciousness desperately reaching out to me through the long-neglected bond between us. I realized that he had finally dropped all the barriers and walls of self-condemnation that separated us, that he'd been hiding behind. He was finally ready to receive all that I had wanted to give him for so long.

_That's it, Starscream!_ I encouraged him across the tenuous bond that still existed between us, despite the time and distance that had separated us. Even if he couldn't hear all of what I was saying, it didn't matter; the emotions, I knew, would translate. _Let go of it all! See that I have always loved you and that I cannot bear to be away from you. You deserve to live, and you deserve freedom, my love. And you deserve me, too, and so much more. So take all that I am, Starscream…I give it to you freely, willingly… _

I didn't sense a reply, but given Starscream's current physical state, I hadn't expected one. I wasn't sure if he "heard" me at all, but he must have felt something because he let out a little sound that was half moan and half sob and his entire body relaxed against me.

"Thank you," he whispered weakly.

I couldn't begin to describe how I felt at that moment, as Starscream finally – Finally! – accepted what I had wanted for so long to say to him, to give to him. He wasn't resisting me. He wasn't fighting me. He was simply…absorbing all that I was communicating to him, letting it fill his spark and strengthen him. But I wasn't done yet.

"I love you," I replied. "I love you for exactly who you are, Starscream. You never have to be anything or do anything to earn my love. You will never have to endure any sort of physical punishment ever again. Just…stay with me, Starscream. Don't leave me again. Please don't leave me again. I need you so much…"

But at that point, before he could answer, Starscream's strength gave out. His grip on me loosened and he began to fall backwards. He made a small, frightened noise, but I caught him and laid him gently on the ground, one hand laying reassuringly on his chest and the other gently cradling his head. He looked up at me, his expression dazed and not entirely focused.

"Rest, my love," I said to him. "It's all right. I'll be here when you're ready to be awake."

And to my surprise and relief, Starscream immediately allowed himself to slip into repair mode without a fight. His arms fell limply at his sides and his head relaxed in my hand. As I watched him power down, I felt a swell of protective tenderness sweep through my body and, leaning down, I touched my forehead lightly to his shoulder.

"Thank you, Starscream," I whispered to him. I knew that he couldn't hear what I'd said, of course, but that didn't matter. Starscream had finally, for the first time since we were separated, trusted me completely. He had decided to believe what I'd said and trust that I would hold true to my words. Suddenly the day that had seemed to be the very epitome of hopelessness had turned out to be the best I'd had since being awakened by the Decepticons three years ago.

I looked up to the sky once again. It was the same sky into which, less than six hours ago, I had been tempted to fly off, leaving Starscream to a horrible fate and a slow, lingering death. The sky was still beautiful, still inviting, but it wasn't quite so bright anymore. It was now a darker blue gently fading into soft pinks and lavenders nearer the western horizon. And, more importantly, the temptation to retreat into it was completely gone. I felt only a wonderful sense of peace settle over me as I gazed back down upon my sleeping bondmate, and I knew that Starscream was finally feeling peaceful, too. I hoped with all that I was that that peace would last, that Starscream wouldn't forget what had happened just moments ago once he awakened again. But I couldn't worry about that now. There was still much to do and most of it would have to be done with harsh and glaring artificial light. I estimated at least twelve more hours of repair work to be done and then I'd definitely need a rest.

Sighing, I again set to work. Though at least this time I worked with a sense of optimism rather than utter and desolate hopelessness…

* * *

I awoke with a start, knowing instinctively that something was amiss. I glanced at the spot next to me where I had left a sleeping, recharging Starscream, but he was gone. I had spent two solid days buried in meticulous repairs, and then there had been two more of recovery and recharge, during all of which I had stayed awake and watched over Starscream, hovering over him like a mother hen, in case he had needed me. Thankfully, he had remained in a healing stasis the entire time. But I had also reached my limit and had needed a rest as well, so I had lain down next to my mate and promptly did the unthinkable, given Starscream's past track record during these recuperative visits of his.

I had fallen asleep.

And now as I looked around myself, a terrible sinking sadness threatened to overcome me. Starscream was gone. He had left me yet again. I knew that he was probably heading back to Decepticon Headquarters – to Megatron -- right at that moment and, worse, I knew that there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that I could do about it.

I stood up, crossed my arms protectively across my chest as if I'd caught a chill, and stared morosely out over the ocean. One thought was echoing loudly through my head, so loudly that if someone had been standing next to me, I fancied that they could have heard the plaintive voice crying in my head.

_Why did you leave me, Starscream? Why?_ that voice was saying over and over, begging for an answer that I knew I could not provide.

In fact, I couldn't possibly begin to fathom the answer. Starscream had acknowledged my love for him, had finally opened up, just a little, to me, but it occurred to me at that moment that perhaps he had been too disorientated from his injuries to remember what had happened. Perhaps he had awoken and thought it all a figment of a fevered, injured imagination. I sighed heavily at the thought. The emotional ups and downs I had been experiencing of late were, I knew, taking their toll. I felt numb and cold inside, wondering how I could possibly go on hoping that somehow, someday, miraculously, the situation between Starscream and me would be resolved. I had dared to think it at least partially resolved this time; I had been wrong. So how, I wondered, could I possibly hope anymore? All that ever resulted from hoping was crushing disappointment.

With a long, weary, resigned sigh, I glanced over at the solar generator off a short distance to my right, wondering if I should even bother recharging, wondering whether I should even bother to sustain my pale semblance of a life, when I noticed that there was something scrawled in the sand next to the machine. Curious despite myself, I walked over, bent down to have a closer look, read the first few words…and realized with a jolt that sent my spark into a state that might have been excitement what it was that I was staring at.

It was a message written by Starscream, no doubt just before he'd left. Carefully, clearly inscribed in the sand, written in precisely straight lines of neatly formed Cybertronian glyphs, it read:

_I know you won't understand, but I have to go back. I won't be gone for long. You should leave right away, as soon as you see this, and find a place to hide. I will find you, and I will return to you. Thank you for not giving up on me. I beg you not to give up now. I promise that I will see you soon. And that promise, I swear I will keep. _

I sat down next to the words in the sand and stared at the message, reading it over and over as if the words could somehow transform themselves into tangible matter and then materialize into the real Starscream so that he could be here, safe with me. It continued to amaze and confuse me that Starscream didn't seem to understand the magnitude of the situation that he was in. Why couldn't he understand that his life was in danger, especially so given that Megatron knew about us and our past and present relationship? At least I assumed he knew about us, given what Starscream had said earlier about providing the coordinates of this island to Megatron. It seemed so simple, so clear to me, yet it was something that Starscream overlooked. I knew that he wasn't stupid. I knew that he understood the danger that he was in. Yet, he continued to ignore it, to downplay it in his mind. That, I didn't understand at all, just as I still didn't understand much when it came to Starscream. I realized that it would likely take a lifetime to understand him again as well as I had millions of years ago. I could only hope that I would be granted that lifetime.

I was, of course, grateful for the message that Starscream had left. In fact, there was a part of me that was overjoyed that Starscream had actually remembered our experiences of a few days ago and that he still accepted it for what it had, indeed, been. Almost unconsciously, I reached out and, with one finger, drew a circle in the sand around Starscream's message. It was a symbolic gesture: I felt an overwhelming need to protect him, but I was, I knew, helpless to do so at the moment. So by encircling the words he had written, I imagined myself encircling him in my love and my strength. And I prayed, prayed to any deity that might be listening, that I would have the chance to be there for him when he needed me most, for I knew that that time was fast approaching.

With that thought in mind, I tore my gaze away from the message in the sand and gazed instead at the recharger, a new and overpowering resolve coursing through my mind and soul, replacing the hopelessness that had been ruling it just moments ago. I determined right then that I wasn't going to hide. I wasn't going to scurry to another island in another ocean and simply hope that Starscream would find me again. Rather, I resolved to remain right where I was and face head on whatever the future held for me. Soon, I knew, Megatron would come looking for me. And I resolved that I would be waiting for him, at full strength and ready to give to him everything that he deserved.

Everything.

So, with that determination ringing resoundingly through my mind and my spark, I hooked myself up to the recharger, lay down in the sand, and fixed my gaze upon the sky. I realized as I stared at the puffy white clouds floating serenely above me that over the past year I had gotten rather good at waiting and that, now, still more waiting was in store for me.

Except that now it was not Starscream that I was awaiting…but Megatron. And I would, I vowed, be ready for him. Oh, yes, indeed…


	20. Chapter 19

**_"Did you have a blow-out in your brain box, Starscream?"_**  
_Thundercracker in "A Prime Problem"_

To say that I was a little angry would be the understatement of the millennium. As Skywarp and I waited just outside the medbay, I was in a pure, unadulterated, unbridled _rage_. And for once none of the voices in my head were arguing with me or second-guessing me, either; they were all every bit as pissed off as I was.

Skywarp and I had been standing by the medbay door for at least half an hour, waiting for our illustrious Air Commander to emerge and grace us with his ever-charming presence. And that, of course, was the reason for my rage. After all that Skywarp and I had done for him and risked for him – Had we been caught sending him on his way after Megatron had beaten him seven-eighths of the way to death, our own lives would certainly have been forfeit – he had, of all things, decided to return to Decepticon Headquarters. Given that he had to be fully aware of the consequences of his decision, Primus only knew why he had chosen to return…but I fully intended to find out, one way or another.

"The nerve…just _wait_ till I get my hands on him, " I was muttering blackly as I paced frantically back and forth down a ridiculously short stretch of the corridor that ran outside the med bay doors. Ironic that only a few short days ago, I had been skulking out here, plotting ways to get Starscream out of Headquarters unnoticed… "I can't believe it. I just can't _believe_ he came back. "

"Ok, how many times are you going to say that?" Skywarp interjected, interrupting my raving. "'Cuz it's getting really annoying." He was leaning lackadaisically against the bulkhead, arms folded loosely across his chest, and he was watching me with wholly undisguised amusement as I paced. Obviously, he was far less annoyed than I was over Starscream's unexpected return.

"As many times as I damn well feel like!" I snapped back at him, stopping my pacing abruptly in front of him and glaring at him. Skywarp looked at me wide-eyed, and then, after a moment of staring at me like that, he laughed…and laughed…and laughed some more. "And what's so damn funny?" I demanded, my annoyance with him growing exponentially by the second.

"Nothing, really," he quite innocently claimed straightening up again since he had bent himself over laughing. "It's just that I don't think I've ever seen you get this mad at someone who wasn't, you know, _me_. It's kinda…I dunno…cute, maybe." He finished off that last line with a wink.

"Oh, _good_," I growled with withering sarcasm. "Because cuteness is _just_ the look I was going for, you know." Skywarp just chuckled again, and I went back to my pacing while grumbling, "I just don't understand how you can brush all this off like it's nothing, 'Warp. I mean, we risked our necks to save his hide, just so that a mere four _days_ later he can come right back and get flogged again. I can't _believe_ he actually came back."

"I know. You said that already. About a billion times, even," Skywarp patiently replied and, when I just glared at him in response, he added, "Hey, I meant what I said earlier, TC. I _am_ upset that he came back. It's just…I don't know, I guess I'm just not as surprised as you seem to be. I mean, this _is_ Starscream we're talking about here," he finished, using one finger to draw an imaginary circle around the left side of his head, indicating his assessment of Starscream's mental state.

"I'm beginning to think you may be right about that," I grumped. "Still, he owes us at least an explanation, and I plan on getting it."

"Oh, never you fear, we'll get it out of him, TC. I'm looking forward to watching you _finally_ wring Screamer's neck."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his last statement because at that very moment I wanted nothing more than to do just that. Plus, it was good to have Skywarp's support. I opened my mouth to say so, but at just that moment the med bay doors swooshed open and out walked Starscream. He looked up at us and smiled as if he hadn't seen us in years.

"Hey, fellas—"

He didn't get to finish his greeting because before he could say another word, Skywarp and I each grabbed one of his arms and then unceremoniously shoved him into the large storage room that was conveniently situated across from the med bay doors.

"Hey! What the—?" Starscream protested

"Shut up and get in there!" I pushed Starscream all the way into the room, until I'd shoved him against the far wall, securely pinning him there with my forearm against his throat. Skywarp leisurely followed us, strolling through the door, humming a happy little tune to himself while he casually shut and locked the door behind us. Then, turning around, he leaned against the door for good measure so that Starscream would have to get past him in order to escape from our interrogation.

Starscream, meanwhile, opened his mouth to protest his treatment, but before he could utter a single screechy, outraged word, I leaned harder against his throat, got right in his face, and yelled, "What the hell are you _doing_ here, Starscream?!"

Starscream's eyes were incandescent with rage as they stared right into mine. As close as I was to him, I could see the recent evidence of repairs all over his face, including the fresh optic replacement he had no doubt just received in medbay.

"I don't have to put up with this!" he growled, and in the closed-in space of the storage room his shrill voice was magnified to an almost painful decibel level, distracting me for a moment, enough to release a bit of the pressure on his throat. Taking advantage of that, Starscream managed to push me off of him and then made his way to the door and to freedom. But Skywarp, his arms folded across his chest, was standing unmoving and unmovable in front of the door, a smug grin on his face. Starscream paused, indecisive about what to do next in the face of Skywarp's obstacle, and I took advantage of his hesitation.

"Oh, no you don't!" I snarled, temper flaring again. I was so tired of the games, of Starscream's flat-out refusal to listen to common sense, of the utter absurdity of the entire situation, that I grabbed his arm and, twisting my body around, flung him back toward the wall with all my strength. Starscream's back slammed into the wall with a resounding crash, and he let out a yelp of pain. In my rage, I had momentarily forgotten about his very recent and very serious damage. For several long moments the room was completely silent as Starscream stood there, slumping a bit against the wall, his face contorted in pain that he wasn't remotely able to conceal, as he tried to absorb the shock that must have been coursing through his body. As I watched him, my anger started to drain away…only to be replaced by a crashing wave of remorse.

_Oh, _excellent_ job, Thundercracker,_ a mocking voice said._ Beating him up is a _brilliant_ tactic. After all, it always works for Megatron, doesn't it? _

I winced at that remark. Those annoying voices in my head were doing what they did best: making me second-guess my own actions.

_Focus, TC, _came Skywarp's reassuring voice through our bond. _He's the one that messed up, not you. _

Skywarp, of course, was right. The only reason Starscream was functioning at all was because of what _we_ had done for him. I turned and nodded a silent thank you at Skywarp before returning my attention to Starscream. He had largely recovered from his violent encounter with the wall and was now glaring silently, accusingly at me.

"Look, Starscream," I said, trying to keep my anger under control, trying to keep my voice level, trying to keep my focus as Skywarp had advised, "Skywarp and I risked our lives to get you out of here last time. And given the shape that you were in at the time, I would have _thought_ that you would have known to stay the hell away. I mean, normally I couldn't care less why you can't seem to understand that your life is in danger here. But this time…I care. And the only reason I _do _care is because this time Skywarp and I put _our_ necks on the line for _you_. So I think the _least_ you could do is give us an explanation as to why you're back and what you think you're going to do once Megatron finds out that you're here."

For a moment, Starscream's only response was to lift his head and peer questioningly over my wing at Skywarp. Skywarp, however, just snorted contemptuously at him.

"Don't look at me, bud," he said. "I'm just guarding the door over here. You're on your own."

Starscream sighed then, seemed to gather his thoughts for a moment, and then looked me in the eye, his expression haughty.

"For your information, Megatron already knows that I'm here. I've already spoken with him, in fact. He met me in the medbay, and we spoke, and he was not the least bit angry, much less murderously inclined. In fact, he had been expecting me to return. So, we briefly discussed the next mission, and then he simply left. So I really don't know what all this fuss is about."

"Fuss? _Fuss_?! Primus, Starscream, are you really _that_ stupid? Don't you remember just how close to death you were? Just how many more times do you think Megatron's going to put up with your antics before he finally decides to be done with you? Because he _will_ kill you. It's just a matter of time. Everyone in the damned base can see it. Hell, even the _Autobots_ can see it, from what I hear tell. Why can't _you_? "

"He won't do that," Starscream firmly insisted, lifting his chin and defiantly narrowing his eyes at me. "Things have changed."

"Oh, really?" I snapped back disbelievingly. "Changed _how, _Starscream?! Seems to me that it's just the same old crap, different day. The same stupid cycle over and over again. I'm sick of it. Why aren't you sick of it? What makes you think it won't just keep happening over and over again."

"Because I won't _let_ it happen!" Starscream firmly asserted, with so much ringing self-assurance that I was taken aback for a moment, a moment during which I almost, _almost_ believed what he was saying. His voice and expression softening a bit, Starscream continued, "Look…Thundercracker…I…I know that your intentions were to help me. You _did_ help me, you and Skywarp. And, really, I very much appreciate that. I was…touched by your concern, yours and Skywarp's. Really. And I know I've done some stupid things lately and that the relationship between Megatron and myself has been changing, and not necessarily for the better.

But _none_ of that changes the fact that I am still second-in-command of the Decepticons and that I still have responsibilities. So…I can't just disappear without a word and fly off into the sunset. _If_ I'm going to leave, then…then the timing of that leaving will be _my_ decision, on _my_ terms. Not yours. And not Megatron's."

I sighed heavily, weighing Starscream's words. On the one hand, they made all kinds of sense. Closure, after all, was a good thing. But on the other hand…I still couldn't understand why anyone would risk their life in order to have closure. Closure wouldn't do one much good if one were dead, after all. Still…

"All right, fine. You have a point there, Starscream," I conceded. "But judging by what I've observed over the past eighteen months or so…your time is running out. Megatron might be fine with you right now and he may remain fine with you for a while. But eventually _something_ will happen that's going to enrage him – whether you're the cause of it or not – and then he's going to come after you."

"Let him," Starscream snarled, with more venom in his tone than I could remember ever hearing from him, particularly not directed at Megatron. "I'm not afraid of him anymore," Starscream asserted. "I told you that things have–"

"Changed, right," I finished for him, over a long, resigned sigh. For the next few moments, all three of us stood in silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts. Except for Skywarp. He was, apparently, just getting bored.

_So like…can we be _done_, now?_ he asked plaintively of me across the bond, his wheedling tone that of a bored human five-year-old.

_In a minute, 'Warp, _I patiently assured him._ There's just one last thing I need to know…_

I returned my attention to Starscream, who had taken to staring fixatedly at the floor. It looked as though his mind was a million miles away. Or maybe just a few thousand miles away. And speaking of that…

"So…what about Skyfire?" I asked softly.

Starscream immediately jerked his head up, his eyes wide with surprise. Just as quickly, though, his expression morphed into one of anger and defiance, as if he were going to argue that no such person existed, much less mattered at all to him.

"Oh come _on_, Starscream," Skywarp interjected, before either Starscream or I could say anything. "Don't act so surprised. _We're_ the one's who sent you off to him in the first place. Remember?"

"Yes, I remember," Starscream neutrally replied. He leaned wearily against the wall, shoulders slumping, the anger gone from his expression. "What about him?" he asked defensively of me.

"Well…" I ventured, "you obviously saw him and he obviously cares about you quite a bit. But these little secret meetings of yours can't keep happening. I mean, Megatron's got to know where Skyfire is and he's bound to hunt him down at some point, right?"

Starscream looked around the room as if he were afraid someone else might be able to overhear our conversation before closing his eyes and whispering, "Right."

I got the distinct impression that he was saying the word more to himself than to me, that mine was a question that he'd asked of himself often but for which he still didn't have a clear answer. So, I was content to let a few extra moments of silence pass before I prodded him again, to give him time to think.

"So what are you going to do, Starscream?" I eventually prodded softly, patiently. "About Skyfire, I mean?"

At that, Starscream slumped back against the wall, wrapping his arms around his midsection as if hugging himself, as a myriad of emotions – confusion, frustration, fear, concern for a loved one, and many others – played across his features, diving and surfacing in such a dizzyingly rapid succession that I couldn't name all of them. This, of itself, was very odd for just about any Decepticon, much less for Starscream. Showing emotions – particularly the softer ones that Starscream was displaying so nakedly, that one could easily take advantage of – was a vulnerability that most Deceptions, particularly one as highly-ranked as Starscream, couldn't afford. Yet…there Starscream was, letting it all hang out, as the human saying went. I didn't know what to do or what to say. I just stood there, frozen in both mind and body, as I watched Starscream. Even Skywarp was affected by the display; I heard his quiet footsteps approach as I watched Starscream struggle with his thoughts and emotions, felt him lay a hand against the small of my back, turned my head to see a surprised and wondering expression on his face as he stared in complete, utter amazement at Starscream.

_Well, uh… This is…different_ , Skywarp observed hesitantly across the bond.

_Maybe he _has_ changed a bit_, I replied.

_A bit?_ Skywarp answered disbelievingly.

_All right, maybe a little more than a bit,_ I conceded. Aloud, I prompted, "Starscream? Earth to Starscream…"

"I don't _know _what to do, Thundercracker!" Starscream finally growled, frustrated desperation evident not only in his voice but in every inch of his body. "I don't _know_. I'm just so…torn right now. Skyfire wants me to leave the Decepticons for good, to stay with him, to be like we were before the war…but I don't think that's possible because things are just so…different now. I know that I belong with him, I know that now, but I just …can't leave. I can't leave all that I've worked for, all that I've _fought_ for, for so long. And I can't leave Megatron, either. He…needs me right now. He just told me so, back in the medbay… So, I want…I need…I…I just wish I knew what to _do_!"

Starscream looked at Skywarp and me as if he expected – or at least desperately _hoped_ – that we'd have an answer for him, that we'd be able to tell him exactly what he needed to do. But, of course, we didn't have those answers. No one did. No one could have them except for Starscream himself. Nonplussed, Skywarp and I exchanged a stricken glance.

_Um…now what?_ Skywarp asked across the bond.

_Damned if I know,_ I replied. _This isn't exactly the way I'd envisioned this little intervention going… _

_Tell me about it… _

Meanwhile, while we stared in open-mouthed, surprised stupidity at him, Starscream became increasingly uncomfortable, increasingly ashamed, perhaps, of his emotional outburst, of revealing his inner turmoil and indecision to Skywarp and me. He stared back at us for a little while and then, the intensity of our combined stare becoming too much for him to bear, he pushed himself decisively away from the wall behind him and barreled toward the door, pushing past the two of us. His sudden – though not wholly unexpected – movements jolted me back to awareness.

As Starscream unlocked and moved to open the door, I turned around, heedlessly bashing Skywarp with a wing in my haste, and called out, "Starscream, wait!"

Pausing but not turning to look at me, Starscream said in a small voice that was completely devoid of his usual bravado, "Never mind, Thundercracker. Just…please, forget that I said anything at all."

And then, before I could say another word, he flung open the door to the storage room and was gone. Skywarp and I could only stare after him, rooted to the spot where we stood, reflecting on Starscream's words and his actions…and fearing for the future.


	21. Chapter 20

**_"A war between the forces of good and evil..."_**  
_Narrator in "More Than Meets the Eye" _

"Come with me, Starscream."

We had just returned from yet another of Megatron's unsuccessful attempts to develop yet another superweapon. I was disgustedly moving toward the doors when Megatron stopped me mid-stride, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward him. Everyone else had gone on ahead, so it was just Megatron and I alone in the docking bay. He started to pull me insistently toward the landing platform again.

"No!" I protested indignantly, digging in my heels and jerking my arm out of his grasp. "I'm fed up with your stupid plans that never work and your constant waste of precious time and resources just to satisfy your obsessive need to destroy Optimus Prime."

I meant every word of it, and it felt good to say it to his face. This latest fiasco involving the retrieval of a few obscure items to make a superweapon, complete with the Autobots delivering to Megatron a fake ruby while doing a bad job of pretending to be the Stunticons, was a perfect example of just how dimwitted Megatron had become over the past few years. Even _I_ could tell the Stunticons were phonies, but Megatron had been too focused on the weapon to listen to me. So, because of his thick-headedness and short-sightedness, we all suffered. As usual.

I, for one, was sick of it. And now, for the first time in my life, I wasn't afraid to tell Megatron everything I felt and exactly what I was going to do about it. Just as I opened my mouth to tell him this, though, he shoved his fusion cannon in my face, the business end of the barrel so close that it grazed my cheek. Megatron spoke in that quiet, seething tone of voice that usually sent shivers coursing through me.

"You are coming with me…_now_," he insisted.

With his cannon still aimed point blank at my face, he grabbed my arm again and led me out to the landing platform. I could feel my courage faltering. Skyfire had given me a purpose and a reason for living and I had begun to heal from an eons-old guilt that had been festering within my spark for far too long…but I had also been under Megatron's power and influence for far too long. I had thought that I could stand up to him now, but those old, familiar companions of mine – Fear, guilt, and an insane desire for punishment – were beginning to overtake me. When, I asked myself, would it _end_?

Aloud, I asked, trying to keep my voice from trembling, "Why? Where are we going?"

"We have a long overdue appointment to keep, Starscream," Megatron informed me, a malicious grin on his face. "Let's go."

We both took off simultaneously and flew out over the ocean. Megatron had me fly in front of him so that he could keep his eyes and his fusion cannon fixated on me. This was highly unusual. Why was he taking me out now? Usually, after a failed mission we returned to base, counted our losses, and repaired our injured. What could possibly be so important that we had to leave the base right at this moment? And why just the two of us? It was all very strange, and I wasn't liking the sound of this supposedly "long overdue appointment." I thought that I deserved some answers to what were some very simple questions.

"What is this 'appointment,' Megatron? And why do we need to go there now?"

"Do not concern yourself with that," he answered in his customary condescending manner. "You will see when we get there. Now bank left thirty degrees and fly straight toward land. And no more talking."

I let out a sigh and followed his instructions, deciding that the best thing to do was to see where this strangeness of Megatron's led and then work it out once we got to wherever it was that we were going. I couldn't help but feel very uneasy about it, though; it was obvious Megatron was in a bitter mood over the loss of yet another superweapon. But I reminded myself that I had done nothing wrong, that I had tried to warn Megatron at least three times of the mistakes that he was making. Isn't that what a good second was supposed to do? I had to admit that right at that moment I hardly cared about my title or my duty to Megatron, but still…I had done what I was supposed to do. Megatron could hardly fault me – much less punish me – for that. Still, after this latest disaster, I had decided that I wanted no part of Megatron's grandiose plans anymore. He clearly didn't need or want my help. I had come to the conclusion that Thundercracker had been right not so long ago; it was, indeed, time to move on.

Besides which…I missed Skyfire. In fact, I couldn't believe just how _much_ I missed him. There had been so much healing at our last meeting, and now I had an overwhelming hunger for more of it. I found that now, instead of craving Megatron's position and power, I was craving Skyfire's presence, his…love. At this point, I just didn't know how to go about leaving the Decepticons and returning to Skyfire without incurring Megatron's wrath and putting Skyfire's life in danger…

"Left another twenty degrees, then straight on until I say otherwise," Megatron barked.

I looked down as Megatron barked out his new directions. We were over land now and heading south. Odd. There was nothing significant about this area. No energy supplies, no secret bases, no Autobots. Why on Earth were we here?

The uneasiness was building, slowly mutating into a genuine fear. If only Megatron would tell me where we were going, I might have some idea of what to expect. I could perhaps prepare myself for whatever he had planned...

…Or maybe this _was_ just an appointment of some kind. Perhaps Megatron had formed an alliance with someone, and he wanted me to accompany him to this meeting.

But why would he need to hold me at gunpoint, then…?

"Now follow this ravine until it leads to a cave entrance," Megatron said from behind me, his tone flat and giving away nothing of his intentions.

Now the place was looking familiar. My eyes widened in recognition as the memory of the area surfaced. This was the place that Dr. Archeville had taken me to retrieve his exponential generator.

"Welcome to the Valley Of No Return, Starscream." Megatron sounded pleased, yet his words were subtly laced with malice. "Land at the entrance to Dr. Archeville's cave."

Having no other alternative, I obeyed. The outside of the cave looked exactly as it had almost three years ago. The entrance was wide open and other than a few old animal tracks, the entire area looked completely undisturbed. I surmised that no one had been here since I had last been here, which only made me feel all the more uneasy, all the more desperate for information as to why we were here at all.

I turned around and faced Megatron.

"This place is of no use to us," I asserted as calmly as I could.

"On the contrary, Starscream," Megatron answered as he gestured with his cannon at the entrance, "it has the potential to be quite…useful. Go inside, and I'll show you."

I stood there for a moment, hesitating, trying to figure out what could possibly be so useful about an old, abandoned, human-built lab. I considered that, for a human, Dr. Archeville had indeed had some ingenious ideas. He was the one who had harnessed the power of the exponential generator, and that had been no easy task. Maybe there were still some devices in the old lab that could be used to give the Decepticons an advantage, and maybe that _was_ why we were here. Or maybe not…

I was still drowning in a deep sense of foreboding, all my internal warning alarms sounding loudly regardless of my attempts at calm rationalization. Still, I knew that I had no choice in the matter. I'd be going into that lab whether I wanted to do so or not. The only choice I had was whether or not to show the fear that was eating away at me as I did so. I did my best to put it aside. Squaring my shoulders, I walked into the darkened cave in front of me, trying to appear far more confident than I felt.

Still, no matter how much I tried to put aside my fear, I knew that something wasn't right. The situation wasn't adding up. Even if there was something of value in the lab, why bring me here? Why not Soundwave? Or better yet, the Constructicons? Or…anyone else besides me. _Just_ me.

"There are many valuable components that are still functioning here," Megatron was saying meanwhile, as we walked deeper into the cave, he still trailing behind me. He was watching me, I knew. He was watching every move that I was making. I could almost feel his focused gaze boring into my back.

We walked through the double doors that automatically slid apart before us and into the main laboratory itself. Dim lights still shone fitfully here and there from the ceiling, giving the room an eerie blue glow. A few lights blinked on and off on the walls around us, indicating that they were indeed still functioning, as Megatron had said. Even the containment capsule that had held the exponential generator, still had a few blinking lights on it.

"This place can easily be remodeled into an effective base of operation," Megatron continued, though I was hardly paying attention to his words, as caught up as I was in trying to determine his purpose in coming here and bringing me with him. "Its construction is surprisingly reminiscent of Cybertronian architecture, and it is completely shielded from all sensors. The Autobots would not find it easily, and likely wouldn't think that we'd return here now, after several years had passed."

I stood there and gazed around the large room. Dr. Archeville had covered every inch of the lab in metal. Nothing organic, no rocks or dirt, could be seen anywhere. The walls and ceiling were completely covered in steel, electronics, and control panels. Megatron was right in that it _did_ have an unusually Cybertronian feel, unlike most human-built structures. I hadn't really paid attention to that detail last time I had been here. But then, I had been so distracted with destroying the Earth and being the ruler of the universe at the time, it wasn't really a surprise that I hadn't noticed such details before. But even with the faint lights overhead, and the blinking wall panels, the place still felt cold and…dead. I felt a slight shiver run through my body.

Something was definitely wrong. I didn't want to be here, shut up in the dark with Megatron. He was right about this place being useful, but I also knew that showing me its usefulness could not be the reason he had brought me here. I had already been here; I already knew that it had the potential to be a useful location. I turned around and saw that Megatron was standing in front of the closed double doors, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The dim lights overhead created a soft blue aura around his body, offset by the angry red glow of his optics.

"In fact, this place is so well shielded, that I doubt anyone's sensors could penetrate it. Not even…_Skyfire's_."

He had emphasized the name as if to make some sort of point, a point that I did not immediately comprehend and wasn't at all sure that I _wanted_ to comprehend. All I knew was I wanted to leave this place immediately. But Megatron was blocking the door and, judging by his body language, was not about to let me get past him.

"Why would Skyfire want to come here?" I asked, trying to sound reasonable and not having to fake sounding perplexed. "If this is to become a Decepticon base, then he would have no interest in it."

Megatron did not answer. Instead, he took a very deliberate step towards me. Instinctively, I took a step backwards, that old familiar panic starting to well up within me.

"Skyfire's probably left the planet, in any case," I said, knowing it was probably not true. After our last meeting, I knew that Skyfire would not leave Earth without me.

Megatron, meanwhile, continued to move towards me without saying a word. I stumbled backwards, trying to stay out of his reach, trying to keep some piece of equipment or another between him and me as if that would somehow protect me from whatever he was intending to do.

"What's wrong? Why are we here?" I shouted, but still I received no answer. Finally I could not retreat any further, for I suddenly found myself with my back up against the wall on the far side of the large lab. I pressed my body into the wall as if I could force my way through the solid steel and the solid rock behind it and escape.

"I-I have done nothing wrong!" I desperately insisted. Megatron, now in front of me, responded by reaching out and wrapping one powerful around my throat, squeezing painfully.

"Shut _up_, Starscream!" he yelled into my face. I gasped and tried in vain to pry his fingers from my neck, just like I had done every time he did this to me, to no avail. Everything, suddenly, was beginning to feel sickly familiar. I wanted to tear his hand away from my throat and tell him how much I hated him and how I was through with him and his grand schemes of ruling the universe. I wanted to tell him I was no longer afraid of him. It was all there inside of me, but I couldn't say the words. Megatron had a power over me that I could never understand and from which I knew, deep down, I could never escape.

I had been a fool. Again. I had thought I could be someone different, someone strong. But…I couldn't. Not now and probably not any time in the future, either. Megatron knew all of this, too. He knew when I was weak and he knew when I was terrified. He knew I wanted to be strong, and knew just how to crush me.

"I _despise_ you, Starscream," Megatron said in an eerily calm voice as he suddenly released his grip on my throat. "You have become like a sickness to me, an affliction like cosmic rust. Your foolishness and lies and betrayals have become like a rotting disease that is eating away at me, and I have had enough of it."

"But…I haven't lied, Megatron! I haven't betrayed you!"

There I went with the same old lines again. Oh, I knew I had lied to him on countless occasions, betrayed his trust more times than I could count, but I found myself compelled to say those words, the same litany that I always recited, as if it was some kind of sick ritual. I hated myself for it, but I really couldn't think of anything else to say except what was in the 'script'.

"You have and you know it," Megatron responded in the same unnervingly calm tone of voice. "But what is far worse than your traitorous behavior is the fact that you have failed me. Everything that I taught you, all that I gave you, has been wasted. You've failed me and you've failed the Decepticon cause."

Overwhelming remorse and guilt swept over me. Megatron always knew exactly what to say to trigger the proper emotional response in me.

"I'm…sorry, Megatron. I promise I'll change. I'll…"

I couldn't finish my sentence because I realized I didn't really mean what I was saying. Hadn't I just decided that I was through with Megatron, that I was leaving forever? But there was still that little, cowering part of me that desperately wanted to please him, and I had started to follow that same script of making promises to him that I knew I couldn't keep. And I suppose he knew it, too.

In response to my pleading, Megatron lifted his arms. I instantly cringed and covered my face protectively, expecting a painful blow. But instead of striking me, Megatron simply rested his hands on my shoulders and firmly pressed down.

"Lie down, Starscream," he said, his voice flat and completely emotionless.

I resisted at first, mostly out of confusion.

"Lie down? What…"

"_Just_ …lie down, Starscream. Don't argue. Just do as I say."

I could tell he was deliberately trying to keep his anger under control. He wanted to hit me, probably wanted to tear me apart, but for some reason he wasn't doing so. As I sank down to my knees, he kept his hands on my shoulders as if to guide me to the floor. The overall feeling of wrongness was still very prominent in my mind. I was sure something very unpleasant was going to happen and as usual, Megatron seemed to be one step ahead of me. I was desperate to know what was going on and what to expect so that I could at least prepare myself. Once I got to my knees, I shored up what little courage I had and pushed myself away from Megatron.

"No! I don't want to lie down. What's going on here? Why bring me here? If you wanted to punish me, you could have easily done so at Headquarters. This makes no sense!" I was proud of myself for confronting Megatron so boldly despite the ominous dread that was coursing through my body. But that pride lasted only a fraction of a second as I saw Megatron literally shaking with rage.

"Because I don't _want_ to punish you Starscream, you idiot!" His words were delivered with such fury and such force that I fell back into a sitting position as if I had been pushed. "As usual, you push me to the very limits…" He stopped and took a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself down. He reached out and pushed on my shoulders till I was lying on the floor. "There are certain individuals at Headquarters who have become a liability. They interfere in affairs that do not concern them, and for that, they will be dealt with. Severely," he promised as he lay down next to me.

"But you…" Megatron continued, and a bit of almost excited anticipation began to creep into his voice. "Oh, I have something very special planned for you, and I did not want to take a chance of being interrupted by those individuals. Hence, the reason for coming here, to this place, a place from which you, my _dear_ Starscream, will never return."

The realization of Megatron's words took a moment to sink in, but when it did it hit me with the force of a battering ram. He was planning to kill me. How could I have been so naïve? Why didn't I see this coming? Thundercracker – likely one of these "individuals" that Megatron had been talking about – had been right, Skyfire had been right, too. But I had refused to believe them, trusting in what I had thought was my own ability to hold Megatron at bay.

I didn't want to die, but I couldn't possibly fight Megatron. Could I?

"Megatron, I…" I said as I tried to sit up, but he forcefully pushed me back down, my body slamming into the floor. He grabbed my face roughly, painfully squeezing my jaw and turning my head to face him.

"I have no more patience for you, Starscream," he spat scornfully. "You will do as I say. No more talking. Do you understand me?" With his hands still gripping my face I nodded wordlessly. "Now…open yourself to me," he instructed impassively as the door covering his own spark opened .

That was the _last_ thing I had expected to hear. If he was planning on killing me, why on Earth was he soliciting a bond?

The curiosity overcame my senses and before I could stop myself I blurted out, "But why…?"

The hand that had been holding my face now came crashing down on my head in the form of a fist. I let out a yelp of pain.

"I said no talking, Starscream!" With obvious effort, he managed to calm himself down. Then he said threateningly, "Don't force me to beat you, Starscream. I have my reasons for wanting you functional right now. Open yourself."

The thick protective plate covering my spark obediently slid open and Megatron immediately entered into a bond with me. I could feel myself going limp and retreating into myself as I usually did during these sessions. I was so utterly confused. He had threatened to kill me, but was now bonding with me. And with _no_ beatings.

I could feel him moving through my recent memories, sorting purposefully through them. I knew he'd find Skyfire there, for I made no attempt to hide him, now.

_Ahhh, there he is._ I heard Megatron say within the bond. _My fellow bondmate, Skyfire._ It sickened me to hear him speak of Skyfire in such a way, in a mockery of affection.

_The real irony here is that you, my dear Starscream, will ultimately be the one responsible for Skyfire's death,_ Megatron mused. _You should have left while you had the chance_, he added scathingly .

Then I began to feel an odd sort of pressure on my spark, as if it were being slowly squeezed in a vice grip. I began to experience an indescribable pain, a pain so deep that I could not escape it. It was everywhere. In fact, my very being had become the source of the pain. I screamed, but I had no voice. I tried to leave the bond, but the pressure was so great that I found I couldn't move, not my body and not in my mind. I began to panic, but suddenly the heaviness lifted, and for a moment I could breathe. I reached out to my own body and realized some non-essential systems had shut down. Megatron was still with me; I could feel his pleasure and excitement.

_M-Megatron? What's happening?_ I asked imploringly.

_It's quite simple, Starscream. You are dying. We are going to experience something that's never been documented before, you and I. I am literally going to crush your spark using our bond as a tool to do so. I wasn't sure at first if it would work, but now I see, because of your fragile temperament, that it will be disappointingly easy._ Then he added maliciously, _I only hope that Skyfire will be more…satisfying. _

_No! Please, Megatron. I'll do anything. Please! _

My pleas were ignored as I felt a new wave of intense pressure wrapping around me like a suffocating blanket. I couldn't feel my body anymore, but I knew it was only a matter of time, perhaps only few minutes, before more and more systems shut down to try to preserve my spark. Then, when all my energy was spent, Megatron would absorb all that was left of me, squeezing out every last drop of life, until there was nothing left. Then he'd do the same thing to Skyfire. I knew that Megatron was taking his time with me, that he planned to make me suffer. He knew that, eventually, I'd call out to Skyfire and that Skyfire would surely respond. That Skyfire would come to try to rescue me. Megatron was banking on that because he wanted us both dead.

The thought of Skyfire enduring such a humiliating and painful death was almost as excruciating as the overpowering weight of Megatron's bond. I tried to concentrate on enduring what was happening to me alone, to concentrate on _not_ calling out to Skyfire…but I knew, deep down, that it would happen, eventually. All that I could do was to delay the inevitable…

* * *

…There was that feeling again. I immediately recognized it as that same sort of uneasiness that I'd felt just a few days before, when Starscream had come to me with near-fatal injuries, when I had flown out over the ocean and zeroed in on the same uneasiness that I was feeling now, finally locating Starscream but not before he'd plunged into the ocean. And now, that same uneasiness, that same feeling of impending doom, was back. It was weaker this time, more distant, but it was definitely there.

At first I had tried to ignore the feelings, thinking it was just my oversensitivity getting the better of me. My last encounter with Starscream had opened up some long-dormant connections between the two of us. Starscream's thickly-fortified walls of guilt and remorse had finally crumbled, and he had allowed me to enter into a sort of non-bonding communion with him. It had been a wonderful breakthrough, and I knew that as long as I lived I'd never forget that moment when Starscream had finally let me in. But then, predictably, he had left again.

The last time he'd told me to leave, I had ignored him, told him that I had to stay where I was in case he needed me. But now, according to Starscream, Megatron knew my exact location. At first, I had wanted to stay and face down Megatron once and for all. He did not instill the same fear in me as he did in so many others. But as I thought it over more rationally, I reasoned that if I moved to a different location, it might buy Starscream and me a little more time. If Megatron could not so easily locate me, then perhaps it would delay the final reckoning that I was certain was coming; it was only a matter of time. So I decided to follow Starscream's advice and find a new hidden campsite, having no doubt that Starscream would be able to find me no matter where I went. But as I finished loading up my cargo hold with all the equipment and spare parts that I had collected and that I had on hand, I began having those disquieting sensations again, the same as I'd had when Starscream had last been in trouble. And I knew that Megatron would not hold back this time. I knew deep down that this time he'd kill Starscream.

Another wave of anxiety swept over me, only this time it was accompanied by a dull ache in my spark. I clenched my fists in frustration and began to pace up and down the beach. The feeling was...distant, almost like an echo. Whatever was happening to Starscream, it was happening very far away. He was in some sort of trouble, I was sure of it, but I couldn't pinpoint the source of the trouble. I stopped pacing and lifted my face to the bright, cloudless sky for the hundredth time, hoping that I'd see his familiar shape flying towards me. But I knew I wouldn't see him. He was somewhere far away, suffering something horrible at the hands of Megatron. I knew it with a certainty that I'd never felt before.

I had to do something. I couldn't just stay here and passively wait for Starscream anymore. But what could I do? I looked out over the ocean, which seemed to stretch on forever, as if there was nothing on this planet other than my island and its surrounding ocean. I realized that if whatever was happening to Starscream was happening within Decepticon Headquarters, then I was likely not going to be very successful at rescuing him this time.

Then suddenly I felt a sharp pain originating from the very core of my spark. It took me by surprise, so much so that I clutched my side and fell to one knee, letting out a short grunt as I fell. The pain dissipated as quickly as it had come, but it shook me to my core. But as if the pain was a galvanizing force, I could feel my resolve suddenly strengthen as I knelt there staring at the sand all around me.

I was not, I resolved, going to endure this anymore. I was finished with this game. It was time to put an end to the craziness once and for all. I could feel all the pent-up anger, grief, and frustration that I'd bottled up for the past three years welling up within me. I allowed the feeling to spread through my body, to bolster my resolve, as I fired my rocket launchers. I transformed and let out a yell as I shot up into the sky. There would be no more waiting, no more beatings, no more senseless torture. I was going to put an end to this, even if it led to my own termination. I didn't care about my life anymore; I just wanted all the pain and confusion to stop.

I headed in the direction of Decepticon Headquarters, driven by my own anger and desperation more than anything else. At top speed high up in the atmosphere, it didn't take long to reach the area over the ocean where I knew the base was located. I stayed at a high altitude to avoid immediate detection, but as I hovered high up over the ocean, I felt that ache again. It was no longer a sharp pain, but a steady throbbing that was gradually building in intensity. Again, it took me by surprise, but I forced myself to remain focused. I had to know for sure where Starscream was. As I drifted through the clouds, I tried to calm myself and reach out through the bond. The throbbing sensation was still there, and it was growing stronger, but it was still distant. He was not, I realized, in the Decepticon base. I let the aching in my spark direct me as I flew toward land. I switched on all my sensors and set them to pick up anything giving off Transformer energy signals.

"Where are you?" I muttered aloud as I flew, searching, sending the same inquiry across the bond as well. I really didn't expect an answer, but I couldn't help but call out to him. Maybe, just maybe he would hear me and know that I was coming for him. Maybe it would give him the strength to hold on. I was flying over a rocky, dusty canyon now. It wasn't familiar to me, but it matched the description I had read in reports of the place where Optimus had used Megatron's gun mode to dispatch that exponential generator. As I neared the place where the battle between the Decepticons and the Autobots had occurred, the throbbing became worse by several degrees. It became like a pounding in my head and throughout my body; as if I were in space being bombarded by meteors. I flew low and scanned the area, but could detect nothing. How could that be? I knew they were here and that Starscream was injured, but I couldn't find them.

_Starscream!_

The combination of my own desperation and the growing pressure within me was beginning to take its toll. I couldn't concentrate, and I was losing altitude. I tried to maintain control, but I was too weak. I transformed and landed hard on the rocky ground. I could hear metal folding and grinding under the impact of my fall, but I felt nothing. My senses were narrowing to a single crystalline point, and my thoughts were fixated on simply surviving moment by moment. Instinctively I knew what was happening; I was losing Starscream. I knew that somewhere, so frustratingly close, he was going to die, and I couldn't save him.

"No!" I shouted out loud "I will _not_ give up!"

I lifted my head and saw a cave entrance in front of me. With much effort, I pushed myself unsteadily to my feet, stood on wobbly legs, and then laboriously stumbled my way into the cave, doing whatever I had to do to make my too-large body fit through the entrance and down the narrow passageway beyond. I staggered forward, not knowing where I was going and not really caring how I got there. Doors that I hadn't even seen slid open in front of me and I quite literally fell into a large, dimly lit room. I squinted frantically into the darkness. My vision was dimmed and tunneled, peripheral vision completely gone. The only thing I could hear was the frantic pounding of my own energon pump, and I was light-headed, dizzy…weak. Utter, terrified panic, I knew, was all that was keeping me going. But I knew that soon, very soon, even that wouldn't be enough. Then I noticed a soft, yellow glow coming from the far side of the room. There were two individuals lying on the floor. One of them was Starscream. The other, of course, was Megatron.

Clumsily I ran over to where they lay and sank down to my knees. They were in an active bond; their optics dark and their bodies limp. Physically, Starscream looked normal; he had not been externally harmed in any way. But something was so very wrong. What was it? I couldn't think clearly anymore, the pounding in my head and the pressure on my spark was almost unbearable now. I reached out and gently touched Starscream's face. It was icy cold, and as I touched other parts of him I found they too were abnormally cold. But the area directly surrounding Starscream's spark was so hot that the metal had begun to turn a bright, melting red and I knew then that somehow, impossibly, Starscream's spark was under direct attack from Megatron and that therefore, indirectly, mine was under attack, too.

But Starscream was losing. In just the few moments that had elapsed since my arrival, I felt him slip farther and farther away. I lay down next to him and laid an arm protectively over his chest. Then, without any further hesitation whatsoever, I opened myself and entered the bond.

This would be it, I knew. This would be the final confrontation between Megatron and me. I wasn't at all sure if I could defeat Megatron in this manner and rescue Starscream. In fact, I thought it highly unlikely that I'd be able to accomplish anything. But it didn't matter; I was determined to be with Starscream now, even if it was only to accompany him into oblivion...

* * *

…Starscream was finally, mercifully quiet, so quiet that I had to check to make sure he wasn't already dead. To my relief, he was only unconscious for the moment. His constant screams and pleas for help or forgiveness had been beginning to rattle my nerves, but I did not have the luxury, this time, of beating him to the point where he had no choice but to shut up. For my purposes at the moment, I needed him with me, conscious, fully cognizant of his surroundings and of what was happening to him. Unfortunately, that also meant enduring a surplus of noise; someone like Starscream would never have the courage to die quietly, much less silently.

I had hoped to crush Starscream slowly, drinking in every moment of his suffering like a human connoisseur of fine wines, relishing the process, savoring his fear and guilt. And although I had not yet been disappointed, Starscream's weakness of mind made him incapable of enduring any assault for long. I had been able to sense that he was quickly approaching the point of no return, and I had no desire for this experience to end so quickly.

So I ceased my attack on his spark for a short while, pulling back from him enough that he could rest but not enough to disconnect completely. This gave Starscream a chance to regroup and me a moment to assess this new experience. It had, so far, been nothing short of exhilarating; I had become so powerful that I could now kill another Transformer merely by bonding with them. The irony of using something that most considered to be the epitome of selfless love as a tool for their destruction was utterly euphoric. I was immune to the devastation that others felt when they lost a bondmate.

Once Starscream was dead, I'd bring his lifeless body back to Headquarters as a trophy, to use it as an example to others who might think to undermine my power, my dominance. It was something I should have done a long time ago. After all, according to Decepticon law, Starscream's constant disloyal and treacherous behavior justified his execution many times; I was simply carrying out this legal execution in my own…_unique _way. The long-overdue death of Starscream would be a glorious example, indeed. I felt an immense inner satisfaction as I thought about Thundercracker's reaction in particular. He thought I didn't know what he'd been up to, what he'd been thinking, what he had done, over the past year or so…but he was so very wrong. Ah yes, I had plans for him, indeed…

As I mused, I began to feel glimmerings of Starscream's awareness once again. It was only a very slight presence on the edge of my consciousness, but he was definitely coming around. I could sense his weakened body fighting to keep from shutting down. I could hear his raspy and labored breathing as his body tried unsuccessfully to cool his overheated systems. It was time, yes. Time to put an end to Starscream's mediocrity, his corrupting and weak influence, so that my perfection could be reborn.

But as I prepared to snuff out Starscream's spark for good this time, I felt something…_change _all unexpectedly within the bond between us. It felt as if someone had opened a window and let in a cool breeze. At first, I thought nothing of it. What I was doing was revolutionary, and there were bound to be unusual sensations associated with it. But the feeling began to grow and increase in intensity until it could not possibly be ignored, until it could not possibly be just an unusual permutation in the bond between Starscream and me. When the intensifying cool breeze morphed into an arctic windstorm, I knew that something was wrong. I knew, in fact, that Starscream and I were no longer alone. Suspecting what was going on, I turned my focus away from Starscream and outward, to find myself surrounded by what appeared to be an arctic wasteland. A bitterly-cold wind, one that would freeze a human in mere minutes, was blowing ferociously, whipping snow all around. I tried to see into the maelstrom surrounding me, but the blizzard-like conditions made it impossible to see anything clearly in any direction. Suspicious anger simmered in the back of my mind as I tried to look around myself; I knew that I was not responsible for this untimely interruption, and I knew that Starscream, in his weakened condition, did not have the strength to conjure such a bond-landscape as this.

That only left one person, of course.

_Face me, traitor!_ I shouted into the howling wind.

That Skyfire had been able to find Starscream so quickly despite all of my precautions unnerved me. It meant that the bond between him and Starscream was so strong, even after millions of years of dormancy, that they could locate each other without saying a word. Briefly, I wondered if all other bonded Transformers had this ability. I had never allowed that sort of intimacy in the bond between Starscream and me, not even in the very beginning. I could see now that there _were_ certain advantages to that sort of relationship, but I was determined that Skyfire would not be able use that advantage against me.

Skyfire still did not appear and I was quickly losing my patience.

_I will not play these games, Skyfire! Show yourself! Now! _

I did not like the fact that Skyfire had the power to manipulate and control the conditions and direction of this bond. In retaliation, I began to focus on Starscream once again. If Skyfire was too cowardly to face me, then he could sit and watch while I crushed the life out of his beloved mate. It was only a few seconds until Skyfire reacted to what I was doing.

_Stop!_

Skyfire's "voice" seemed to come right out of the wind, as if he _was_ the wind. The snow started to gather in one place in front of me and the wind died down slightly. The huge mound of snow in front of me became an enormous slab of ice. I approached it and, after brushing off some of the loose snow that clung to it, I noticed that there was something embedded within it. It was, of course, Skyfire. He looked exactly as he had that day almost three years ago now, when we had discovered him in the arctic. I glared up at his dark, vacant eyes and aimed my fusion canon right at his midsection.

_You make this almost too easy, Skyfire, _I spat scathingly at him._ I'm disappointed._

A split second before I was able to fire the gun, a large white hand crashed through the ice and grabbed my neck. I cried out in shock and anger, but my voice was choked off as his fingers squeezed tight around my throat. Shattered pieces of ice came raining down on me as Skyfire effortlessly freed the rest of his body from the ice that moments before had entombed him. His optics flared to life like two brilliant blue spotlights as Skyfire lowered his face and locked his gaze with mine, our faces only a few inches apart.

_Leave…this…bond…now,_ he growled from deep within his chest, precisely enunciating each word .

They were four simple words, yet each one was spoken with such overpowering conviction, such complete authority that I didn't immediately know how to respond. Skyfire's arrival in a bond that I had intended to be private had left me feeling somewhat unsure of myself, and I hated that. I let my irritation with myself and with Skyfire grow into a fury and then fed off the strength it gave me. This bond was mine, not Skyfire's. I needed to regain control.

I grabbed his hand, which was still holding my neck and ripped myself out of his grasp. The wind had died down to a gentle breeze that made the snowflakes dance around us like carefully choreographed dancers instead of frantic whirling dervishes. A symbol, perhaps, that Skyfire was weakening, that the fury that had been driving him only moments ago was now spent. Now was my time to regain the upper hand.

_I will not leave this bond until Starscream is dead,_ I declared flatly, refusing to even think about any other outcome.

_Then you will have to kill _me_ first, _Skyfire responded with that same conviction, only now it seemed to be tinged with a bit of sadness.

Skyfire was impressive, no doubt about that, but he was also weak. He was pathetically easy to read, which made him vulnerable, and those who were foolish enough to be vulnerable around me deserved to be terminated. I had intended to use Starscream's death as a lure, suspecting that Skyfire would be able to sense Starscream's peril, and then overpower and kill Skyfire in the same way. But I realized that killing them both now, at the same time, might prove to be much more enjoyable. Without speaking, I closed my eyes and tentatively reached out to Skyfire's spark. He did not resist; instead, he opened himself up to me until we were fully joined. I was surprised that he allowed me to roam freely within this new bond. I was also struck by his complete lack of fear or apprehension, yet I could sense there was still some sort of internal struggle going on, and I planned to exploit it.

We were still in the arctic landscape that Skyfire had conjured, only now Skyfire was lying on his back, his face to the sky, and I was lying next to him. All these millions of years I had been yoked to someone with a plenitude of weaknesses, someone who demanded constant attention even if it came in the form of physical violence. I had no reason to believe that Skyfire would be any different. But I quickly discovered that he _was_ different. He was filled with an inner strength, a rock-solid self-assurance that I'd never seen or felt in Starscream. Instead of fear, Skyfire was an ocean of calm. Instead of confusion, Skyfire was infused with confidence and passion. I had never experienced anything like it, and I found it to be both intimidating and stimulating at the same time.

What a tragedy that Skyfire had wasted all this potential on someone like Starscream! A part of me – a _small_ part of me – would regret having to kill him…

I rolled over and leaned on one elbow to get a better look at Skyfire's face. We were still bonding, and I could feel myself exploring his mind, his soul. So far, nothing was hidden from me. I reached out and cupped the side of his head in my hand, turning his face toward me. Skyfire's expression was as cold and lifeless as the icy wasteland that still surrounded us. I spoke in my most soothing voice. _You _want_ to die, don't you, Skyfire…?_

* * *

…Megatron was only partially right. I gazed into his glowering eyes for a long moment, then abruptly turned away without answering him. If he wanted answers, he could find them within me easily enough.

My own death was indeed at the forefront of my thoughts, but it was not a desire for death at all; it was merely a resigned preparation for it. I was prepared to fight for Starscream's life to the point of death, if need be. And I felt no fear or apprehension at the thought of it.

I allowed Megatron to roam freely throughout my being, granting him access to my memories, my passions, and my dreams. He absorbed everything hungrily, desperately taking whatever he could from me. He saw my life as it was millions of years ago on Cybertron, he saw my early life with Starscream, and he saw my life with the Autobots. His probing was not gentle, and several times I winced in pain as he plunged into my memories and tore through them, vandalizing them as he went. Although I wanted to do so, I resisted doing the same to him. He had nothing that I wanted. If, by some miracle, I was to survive this confrontation, I would want nothing of Megatron to survive in me. So I took nothing from him. I only lay there and let him take all that he wanted to take from me. All, that is, except for one thing.

I did not allow Megatron to see the true reason for my passive behavior and what must have seemed to him as my acceptance of certain death. I knew Starscream was still alive. I hoped that I had interrupted Megatron's attack on his spark before he'd inflicted any irreparable damage. Starscream was not damaged in any other way. He only needed time to recover and regain strength enough to leave the bond and escape. I knew that, given Starscream's sturdiness and ability to bounce back from just about anything, it would not take very long to reach that point. So, I was buying time for Starscream, and the price was this bond with Megatron. And while this sickening one way bond was pushing even the limits of my endurance, I knew it was insignificant compared to what was to come.

I reached out to Starscream's spark and noticed that he was regaining consciousness. The time was near. Time for Megatron's hold over Starscream to finally come to an end. I refocused all of my attention on Megatron. I continued to feed his hunger, pouring myself out to him, and hopefully distracting him.

He responded with a satisfied groan and said in a preoccupied voice, "Your entire being is a strange contradiction of compelling strength and profound weakness, Skyfire. I do believe you may be insane."

Again, I refused to respond. I had to keep my focus, had to concentrate on giving and not taking. So I increased my efforts and gave even more. Perhaps Megatron was finally right for once. Perhaps I really was insane. But if it meant freedom for Starscream then so be it. I had nothing to lose…

* * *

…I came to with a start, all of my defenses at full alert and prepared for…something. But what was I prepared for? Where _was_ I? My only clue was that there was a slight, uncomfortable pressure on my spark which, after a few moments of contemplation, triggered a very fresh and very horrifying memory.

Megatron had tried to kill me using the bond between us as the instrument of my destruction. In fact, I was still in the midst of that bond, its surreal images surrounding me, but…I wasn't dead. Nor was I in any pain. On the contrary, except for a little shakiness, I was feeling quite normal, which was far from what I expected. But why was it so quiet? Where was Megatron?

I was beginning to reach out ever so tentatively, unsure of whether or not I really wanted to know the answers to those questions, when I noticed a snowflake slowly drift down in front of me. As I looked around, I saw that the whole area around me had been lightly dusted in snow. And there was a gentle breeze, crisp and cool, like summer in the…

… _Arctic! Skyfire, no!_

I instantly searched for Skyfire and found myself standing in front of a massive mound of solid ice. Filled with an ominous dread, I bent over it, trying to see through the thick layers to what lay beneath, even though I knew what I'd see. And there they were, two figures sickeningly distorted by the light passing through the layers of ice, entwined in a bond. I rested one hand over the wavy-edged blob that I knew was Skyfire and reached out to him as best I could.

_Skyfire, what are you doing?_ I asked of him, afraid of the answer.

It seemed as though I was waking Skyfire from a trance, for he started at the sound of my voice.

_Starscream! Thank Primus! You're…just in time. I'm losing my hold on Megatron… You must leave the bond right away._

_Leave the bond…? _I asked, feeling not a little confused. _But…what about you? How will—? _

_You have to leave before it's too late! _Skyfire insisted desperately, interrupting my vague, confused questions as the ice around Megatron and Skyfire began suddenly to melt. Cracks formed all around the mound, and steam wafted up, fogging the area before it was carried away by the pervasive wind.

Skyfire shouted above the sizzling, popping sound of ice being boiled away.

_Megatron knows that you're awake, Starscream! _he informed me, panic fraying the edges of his voice. _He knows what I've been doing. Go NOW!_

I took a few steps back, away from the surreal tableau in front of me, entirely unsure of what to do. Megatron's body was partially free of the entombing ice now, and his eyes were glowing in rage in my direction. They were focused entirely on me, promising retribution and worlds of pain with just a single, focused gaze. The temperature had risen noticeably now, and flames were shooting out of the ground all around me now, sublimating ice to steam in an instant. And then, suddenly, Megatron burst through the remaining bits of ice that encased him with an infuriated howl, lunging in a blind, hate-driven rage toward me. Shock and overwhelming terror filled me to my core as I fell backwards, lifting my arms up in a feeble attempt to defend myself. But just as Megatron was about to pounce on me once again, Skyfire broke through the ice as well and grabbed Megatron's legs, tripping him. He fell forward, landing in front of me with a grunt of surprise followed shortly by another howl of rage, this one directed over his shoulder toward Skyfire, who clung like a particularly determined leech to Megatron, his larger body pinning Megatron's lower body to the ice beneath the two of them.

_Leave the bond now! _Skyfire yelled at me as he grappled with the writhing Megatron.

_But…? How…? _was the only response that occurred to me, my mind foggy and not absorbing things as it should be.

_I will annihilate both of you! _Megatron was howling with a demonic screech that drowned out whatever Skyfire said in answer to me. He was attempting to claw his way to me, promising to tear me to unrecognizable shreds as he struggled, but his movements were severely encumbered by the weight of Skyfire's body half on top of him. With a last desperate look aimed in my direction, Skyfire delivered a powerful, yet simple message right to the center of my spark.

_GO! _

With conflicting thoughts crashing through my head, I turned away from Skyfire and Megatron and left the bond, retreating away from the frenzied three-way shared consciousness and into the quiet of my own solitary one, disconnecting abruptly from the other two. It was only a split second later that I returned to consciousness in the shocking calmness of Dr. Archeville's lab. The same blue lights were still spilling down upon me, casting their pallid, sickly glow around the room. But for my own frantic intake of cooling air, the lab was utterly silent and still, strangely peaceful, sharply contrasting with the illusory chaos and cacophony that had been the environment of the bond.

I found that I was lying on my back with Skyfire and Megatron lying to either side of me, each of them with an arm across me although neither of them was actually touching me. Instead, each had a hand wrapped with crushing strength around the other's forearm, as if they were engaged in some contest of physical, rather than mental, strength. The bright yellow glow of the bond between the two of them arced across and over me. It was an odd, almost surreal sensation, knowing as I did that Megatron and Skyfire were indeed fighting a battle to the death right in front of me, and yet there were none of the usual sounds of battle. No shouts, no weapons fire, no grunts of pain or cries of temporary victory, no movement at all. All of their energies were focused entirely inward, with none left to be spared for mundane things such as movement. There was just a soundless, intense glow radiating between them that seemed to be growing more intense as the moments crawled by, while I tried to decide just what to do now.

I turned towards Megatron and looked at him. His optics were glowing only faintly, as most of his energy was being diverted to the bond with Skyfire and the battle that was raging within it. He was completely vulnerable right now, I knew. So very helpless. I wanted nothing more at that moment than to point my laser rifle point-blank at his spark and end his life. If I did it, it would all be over so easily, so quickly. And then I would be free…

There was, of course, only one problem with that plan: Skyfire was joined with Megatron, their sparks as one. To extinguish Megatron would extinguish Skyfire in the very same instant. I wondered, in a brief but terrible moment, whether or not that was an acceptable sacrifice. I had lived without Skyfire for millions of years, adapting – with difficultly but adapting nonetheless – to his absence. Some malicious voice inside me, somewhere deep inside, was whispering that I could do so again if necessary. But even if that was the case…_was_ it necessary?

Not so very long ago, I would've relished the idea of killing them both with one simple shot. Not so very long ago, in fact, I had _planned_ to accomplish exactly that by allowing the Earth to be swallowed by its sun. But now…? All malicious inner voices aside, now I knew that I couldn't kill Skyfire, if only for the entirely selfish reason that I knew I'd become irretrievably insane if I did such a thing. I had held things together for a long time, but the tenuous front of sanity, I knew, was starting to unravel. If I were to bring about Skyfire's demise…then the front would be gone, ripped to scattered, unrecognizable shreds, just as the rest of me would be.

I also knew that I couldn't simply walk away and leave Skyfire to fight this battle alone. To do so would be the height of selfishness and cowardliness and, if I was going to try to put aside those aspects of me, to try to be the person that I had once been, then that sort of behavior was unacceptable. I had to help Skyfire. I had to be _with_ Skyfire. Together, I knew that we had a fighting chance. Apart, we were far less than the sum of our parts. And, even if the worst happened, if I was with him, then at least I wouldn't die alone. There was some comfort in that. Pale, cold comfort, yes…but comfort nonetheless. So, without any further thought or hesitation, I dove back into the bond…

…Where I was instantly assaulted by gale-force winds blowing in all different directions at once, pushing and shoving at me from all sides, as if I was in the midst of a panicked crowd seething toward the exit of a building. It was difficult to keep my balance as I searched desperately for Skyfire, who I knew was _somewhere_ in this maelstrom. But it was also hard to discern anything in the chaos that surrounded me. Above my head, a fierce thunderstorm was raging. Huge white bolts of lightning tore through thick layers of grey-black clouds, followed shortly by bursts of thunder that sounded like sonic booms. The sounds of the wind and the storm around me were so crashingly loud and discordant that I could hardly think straight. Mixed in with the wind, the lightning, and the thunder were pained cries and angry shouts, but it was difficult to ascertain from which direction they were emanating.

Never having experienced before anything remotely like what I was experiencing now, I wasn't at all sure what to do next. I knew that I was joined with both Megatron and Skyfire, but it was as if I was an outside observer of the situation at hand rather than an active participant in what was going on around me; the nature of this bond was so abnormal and twisted that I had no idea how to proceed. So, I watched and waited, trying to be particularly open to and sensitive to Skyfire while at the same time shoring up my own strength, waiting for any opportunity to help him.

Suddenly, completely unexpectedly, Megatron crashed to the ground a few feet in front of me, materializing from thin air. I was skittering backwards away from him in alarm just as Skyfire appeared and swooped down upon him a split second later. Not appearing to notice my presence at all, Skyfire slammed both fists down hard again and again onto Megatron's chest. He was using so much force that there should have been a large depression in Megatron's body, but there wasn't. In fact, they both appeared to be in perfect physical condition despite the fierce battle going on between them. It wasn't surprising to me; I knew that this conflict was happening within a bond, so there wouldn't be any outward signs of damage; any injuries that were inflicted would manifest on the inside, within the spark and within the mind. I was all too familiar with that.

The storm was still raging all around us, providing a dramatic soundtrack to the battle being waged in front of me. Skyfire had Megatron pinned now, his fists pummeling him again and again without pause, without mercy. I approached the two of them without hesitation, gladly accepting the chance to assist Skyfire in beating the life out of Megatron, but then Megatron's arms shot forward with the strength of a firing cannon and succeeding in shoving Skyfire away from him. Skyfire was attempting to regain his balance in the powerful winds when Megatron's fusion cannon materialized on his arm already aimed at Skyfire. Upon seeing that painful nemesis of mine, I shouted a warning without thinking.

_Skyfire! _

All this time, both Megatron and Skyfire had seemed unaware of my renewed presence within the bond. But now Skyfire, hearing my warning, hesitated and looked around himself, looking for me. Megatron took advantage of this and fired his cannon nearly point blank into Skyfire's midsection. I screamed in horror as I saw Skyfire fly backwards and land in a sprawled heap several yards away. I could feel the burn of sympathetic pain spreading through my body. I tried to run to Skyfire, but the winds seemed to be pushing against me, making my progress toward him agonizingly slow. Skyfire was still doubled over on the ground when Megatron fired his cannon again. Skyfire's body convulsed upon impact, and I felt another wave of burning pain. Then Megatron was standing over Skyfire, kicking him repeatedly and shouting at him, his words eaten by the howling winds that intensified in proportion to Megatron's rage. I redoubled my efforts to push through the wind to get to Skyfire, but I felt like a feather trying to push against a steel wall. I was helpless to intervene in the confrontation.

But, even without my help, Skyfire had seemed to gather his wits. He was now holding his own gun and was firing it repeatedly at Megatron, the energy bolts from the double-barreled weapon spattering around as if echoing the lightning bolts still knifing through the clouds above us. Gathering his strength, Skyfire leapt up and dove into Megatron. They were both locked in feverish hand-to-hand combat that became increasingly frantic with each passing moment until a tornado began to form around them. The noise of their combat and the storm and the tornado was deafening. I felt completely helpless as I watched the two individuals who were like two separate parts of me, fighting to the death. I knew who I wanted to win this struggle, but I knew that the outcome of it was at this point totally out of my control.

The tornado that engulfed Skyfire and Megatron began to whirl faster, gathering in strength and intensity, echoing the vicious combat still raging between Megatron and Skyfire. The wind that had previously been pushing against me was now pulling me towards the furious cyclone. I felt myself going into sensory overload as I was sucked into the vortex. I knew this needed to stop or else all three of us would die, but Megatron and Skyfire were too focused, too absorbed in the battle to bring it to a halt. So I did the first thing that popped into my panicked mind. It may not have been the most brilliant of strategies, but at that moment, it didn't seem to matter; I reached out to both combatants through the bond between the three of us, deliberately placed myself in the middle of the conflict, and screamed with everything I had in me.

_STOP! _

And it did. It all stopped. Absolutely _everything_ stopped. Instantly. There was no movement, no sound, no storm, no wind…nothing. It was as if time had suddenly, without warning, decided to stand still, crystallizing down to a single moment that stretched on forever. I stood there for a moment that might have been a few seconds or a few millennia, trying to focus. Megatron was nowhere to be seen, but Skyfire was just a dozen-or-so meters away, his back toward me, huddled on his knees with his shoulders slumped forward and shaking. As I approached him, it began to rain. It fell in soft, steady sheets that drenched me instantly. I bent over a little bit so that I could see into Skyfire's downcast eyes.

_Skyfire? _I asked quietly.

He didn't respond. He only knelt there silently, rain pouring over him, gloomily staring at the ground. I was concerned. Had Megatron seriously damaged him? How could I know since there was absolutely no evidence of any damage on the outside?

_Skyfire, are you all right? _I asked again, pleadingly this time.

He raised his head, but his optics seemed to look right through me. The rain running down his face made small sprays of water spew out of his mouth as he finally answered me.

_The ice is melting, _he said in a lifeless voice.

_The ice?_ I asked. Indeed, it was warmer, raining now rather than snowing, but… _Skyfire, what's wrong? _

_Megatron is strong. I'm…not doing well. _Then his voice brightened a little as he finally met my gaze, smiled tiredly at me, and said, _But at least you are safe, Starscream. It is good to see you once more, before I…go… _

It suddenly occurred to me that Skyfire thought that he was seeing an image of me, just another in the stream of other images that had been conjured during this insane bond.

_Skyfire, I'm really here, _I tried to assure him._ I re-entered the bond to help you…if I can. _I reached out and touched his shoulder reassuringly, and Skyfire's eyes widened with realization as he felt the solidity of my hand against his shaking shoulder.

_Starscream! _he yelped._ Why did you come back? Megatron is winning this battle. I wanted you to be safe. I can't protect you if— _

I bent over and leaned closer to Skyfire's face, interrupting his alarmed words. The rain was the only barrier between us, and it was a thin one.

_I will _not _leave you again, Skyfire, _I asserted. I meant every word and did my best to convey my certainty across the bond. It felt good to be completely honest and committed for once. _This time I'm keeping my promise to you, even if it means that I have to die to keep it. _

For a long moment, Skyfire simply stared at me, his jaw slack almost in disbelief which, when I thought about it, shouldn't have surprised me. I spent the last several years running away from this sort of commitment to him. Now, here I was at perhaps the last possible moment, reaffirming that commitment that I had made to him so long ago, before the war, before Megatron, before…everything. It was, I imagined, something of a shock to his system, something that would rightfully take Skyfire more than a split-second to absorb. But absorb it he did, after a few moments. And he smiled a wide, genuinely delighted smile, the sadness leaving his face, replaced by something that might have been hope.

_Thank you, Starscream, _he said simply, which was appropriate for him, never being one to gush…too much. With immense effort, he stood and gazed anxiously down at me. _But I am afraid that this battle with Megatron has left me greatly weakened. I do not think that I can withstand another assault like the last one, even with your help. _

Nodding, I absorbed that information, stored it away, resolving to take, then, as much of the punishment as I possibly could, in the hope that Skyfire could regain some of his strength in the interim.

_Where is Megatron? _I asked.

Skyfire shut his eyes and took a deep breath, searching for his…our…adversary.

_He is here, _Skyfire announced flatly, emotionlessly after a moment._ He is, like me, gathering his strength for the next attack, which he believes will be the final attack. And he knows that you are with me. He is…anticipating victory. _

I snorted contemptuously at that.

_Well, he can just keep right on anticipating, then…_

As my "voice" trailed off, I looked around myself, seeing nothing. I found it disconcerting, in an ironic sort of way, that Skyfire had an awareness of Megatron that I did not have. All of those millions of years spent bonded to Megatron, and I still couldn't sense him as easily as Skyfire apparently could, now, suddenly. I had to choke down a bitter, ironic laugh at the thought.

Although the rain had slowed somewhat, it was still coming down steadily, a symbolic image of Skyfire's steadily draining life-strength, just as the previous fierce storms had been an image of their respective rages during the fight between them. The struggle with Megatron had weakened Skyfire greatly, but I also knew that Megatron had likely been weakened as well. If Skyfire and I were going to do anything, I knew that we had better do it now, before Megatron fully – or even partially – recovered his strength.

_Skyfire, we aren't going to defeat Megatron by fighting him, _I said firmly to Skyfire. My mind was suddenly calm, focused and strategizing madly. _Not as you have been doing, anyway.He knows that, and so he thinks that he has us beaten, that his victory is assured. He knows that you are weakened and…well, he has never believed that _I_ had any strength, anyway. So we need something different, something…unexpected. But as long as he is bonded with us, the he is a threat to us. He can hurt us… _

I paused as an idea suddenly formed in my head, blooming like desert flowers after a dry-season downpour. I glanced up at Skyfire's weary face and caught his hand in mine. _He is the one who needs to leave this bond, Skyfire, _I said determinedly, urgently_. Not me. We need to force him out, and I think…I think that we can do it. _

Skyfire tilted his head, his expression both exhausted and puzzled at the same time.

_How? _he asked simply, his voice drowning in weariness and tinged with a bit of hopelessness.

_I don't really know, _I admitted_. But I think if we confront him together – Not to fight, but to…to _push – _we might be able to force him out. _

It sounded crazy. It _was_ crazy. I couldn't imagine that there had ever been anyone in the history of Cybertron who had ever tried to break a bond deliberately. There would be consequences, I knew, most of them unpleasant. The one-way bond between Megatron and me was very strong, ancient, his hold over me near-complete. Suddenly severing it would be painful for both of us. Extremely so. But I could deal with that. If nothing else, _I _had the extra added incentive of knowing that, once the pain subsided, I would be free…

Meanwhile, Skyfire was nodding thoughtfully at my words, squeezing my hand in what I supposed was agreement or encouragement or both…and then I heard a noise behind us. As one, we turned …and there was Megatron, suddenly lying right there in front of us, as if he'd been there the whole time even though I knew that he hadn't been. As soon as he saw Skyfire and me, he began to rise to his feet, although I could tell that it required just as much effort – perhaps even a bit more – as the same action had had for Skyfire. Megatron regarded us with a scowl on his face that was at once infuriated and scathing, no doubt preparing himself for another battle and for what he was certain was going to be a great victory over the two of us.

But I intended to give him an entirely different sort of battle than the one that he was expecting. From experience, I knew that this was the only way to gain an upper hand, however brief, in any sort of confrontation with Megatron. He thought that he planned everything perfectly, anticipated every outcome, every possible countermeasure his enemy might employ…but I knew that no plan of his was ever completely foolproof, particularly so since our arrival on Earth. So the secret to beating Megatron, I knew, was to find the angle that he didn't expect, that he hadn't anticipated, for there always was one and he never had any sort of countermeasure against it.

I hoped that I'd found his oversight this time, that he wouldn't anticipate that I would even _think_ of trying to sever the bond between us. He likely thought that I would never have the courage to do so, knowing that it would cause me, at the very least, tremendous pain. He thought that I was afraid of pain, that I couldn't handle it…but he should know better. He had been the one, after all, who had taught me how to handle pain. Ironic, that. And this time I was determined that his overconfidence was going to cost him dearly. I didn't really know what I was doing here, what would happen in this confrontation or even how I was going to accomplish my goal…but I'd always been pretty good at flying by the seat of my pants, as the human saying went, and I hoped that my luck would continue in that regard. I hoped and prayed to any available deity that the sketchy germ of a plan that I had in my head at the moment would spring into full flower at the right moment…and that the plan would be successful.

Steeling myself, I reached up to lay a supportive hand on Skyfire's arm and, concentrating on the connection between him and me while trying to filter out Megatron's piece of the bond, I began to focus all my energy toward him. Skyfire followed my lead and did the same, laying his own larger hand over mine and directing all of his energy towards me. It was a truly unique feeling; it wasn't a real bond in the traditional sense, for we weren't really opening ourselves or sharing ourselves. We were simply combining our energy, our life-force, for lack of a better word, into something more. Something…different. The energy running between us was palpable and invigorating.

Megatron must have sensed that something was wrong, that something was happening that he hadn't accounted for, for his silent scowl suddenly dissolved into incoherent screaming. He had never been very flexible in his thinking or his strategy; when it looked like his plans were going awry, he invariably retreated instead of simply modifying his plan as necessary and rolling with the punches. But this time…he couldn't retreat. There was nowhere that he could possibly run in this surreal landscape without leaving the bond between the three of us. And even if he did that…it would then be two against one, and Skyfire and I would show no mercy. This, he must have known.

So, in the face of the knowledge that he couldn't retreat, Megatron flew into a frenzy. A panicked one, so I hoped. If he was panicking, if he wasn't thinking straight, if he was off-guard and off-balance, then this task of ours would be so very much easier…

Megatron fired his fusion cannon wildly at Skyfire and me, screaming his displeasure at us as he did so. Huge flaming geysers shot up all around us, wherever Megatron's cannon-fire impacted with the ground…but nothing seemed to be able to touch us. Even shots that should have squarely hit either Skyfire or me never connected; the energy was simply deflected away from us as if we were protected by a force field. We just stood there staring at Megatron with a singular focus but without actually seeing him; all of our concentration was directed at draining our combined energy and using it to form an invisible, protective wall between us and Megatron.

This further enraged Megatron, and he ceased fire when he saw that it was having no effect. Instead, he threw his body against the wall between us and him with all the force that he could muster, but he merely bounced off of it. I had to suppress a mocking laugh at his expense, watching him as he staggered to regain his balance; laughing at him would break my concentration and that could possibly be deadly in the situation that I was in. Still, Megatron didn't appear to have learned anything from tossing himself against the wall that separated him from Skyfire and me, for he approached it again and pounded at it mercilessly with his fists and shot at it again with his weapon. But he couldn't break through. He couldn't touch us, couldn't hurt us.

Encouraged at that, Skyfire and I then began to push The wall, made of pure life-energy that arced and sputtered around Megatron, invading his systems and his very spark, pushed against him. He slid inexorably backwards, trying to push back, but to no avail. The ground around us was suddenly sheer, thick, infinitely slippery ice; for him there was no purchase to be found, nothing against which he could brace himself so that he could push back against us.

Through Skyfire, I could feel Megatron weakening. With a sudden rush of hope, I realized that Megatron was losing this fight, that my plan was working. He had, as usual, overestimated himself and underestimated his adversaries. He had spent his energy far too freely and much too quickly in expectation of winning this battle swiftly and easily, impatiently wanting to get to the end of it so that he could destroy Skyfire and me, no doubt in some slow, sick manner. But we weren't as easy to defeat as he'd thought we would be, and now he had no more resources to draw upon in order to fight against our combined energy wall. Just as quickly, though, I realized that this was putting a tremendous drain on both me and Skyfire. Especially Skyfire. He was weakening as well, perhaps more quickly than Megatron was. But Skyfire _did_ have a resource to draw upon – me, although I was greatly weakened as well – and we were both completely determined to hold out to the end, whatever the end turned out to be. It was a common, unwavering thought that flowed between us, driving us, encouraging us, and energizing us against all odds.

The harder Megatron pushed, the harder the energy wall pushed back against him, sparking and pummeling Megatron with energy against which his bared, vulnerable spark had little defense. Megatron was screaming like I'd never heard him scream before. It was a high-pitched, spark-crushing scream of immense, unimaginable pain mixed with the choking terror of impending death. While I doubted that what we were attempting would actually kill someone as powerful as Megatron, Megatron obviously felt that his life was in danger. But he also knew that he couldn't back down, either, because then he would assuredly lose and he knew that Skyfire and I would then assuredly kill him. Killing Megatron wasn't my goal, though; I only wanted him _out_, out of the bond between Skyfire and me and out of my life forever.

But I could feel myself losing strength. I was almost completely drained and Skyfire was by now far worse off than I. We had only a short while longer until we were both utterly sapped of…everything. And then…and then Megatron would win and he would most certainly kill us, given that that had been his original intention anyway.

I looked at Skyfire and sent a short, desperate message through the bond between us.

_One last push! _I ordered tersely, too drained for anything more eloquent or encouraging than that_. Now!_

Skyfire nodded his understanding, too drained even to speak, and gathered the last little flagging bits of his energy, just as I did. We would use all of what little we had left to thrust our energy wall over Megatron and then we would have to hope that that would be enough. Survival was no longer the driving force behind our actions. We didn't care about survival. All we cared about now was completing the task that we had set ourselves. Pushing the wall over Megatron was a symbol of breaking the bond between us forever.

One last frantic push from Skyfire and me, one last long, keening wail that might have been heartbreaking if it had been coming from anyone other than Megatron…and the wall came down with a resounding crash, Megatron's scream abruptly cut off as his image just as abruptly disappeared entirely from the bond-landscape around us. All around us the ear-splitting sound of shattering glass filled the air. Tiny shards of glass rained down on us as we stood there, relishing the sudden absence of Megaton's malevolent presence as the last bits of falling glass bounced harmlessly off our exhausted bodies.

I looked over at Skyfire. He looked every bit as haggard as I felt, and his body was wracked with uncontrollable twitches that threatened to become full-blown convulsions. He had no strength left. It was something of a miracle, I thought, that he was still standing. He looked back at me with eyes that were dangerously dimmed, and his mouth moved as if he was trying to say something, but no words came out. So, I said them for him.

_We did it_, I said weakly.

And I knew that I was right because I could already tell that Megatron was gone from me, if not gone from the universe in general. Pain – intense, crushing, all-consuming, soul-rending pain – was radiating from my spark in screaming, pulsing waves that threatened to devour me whole. It was, I knew, the pain of a broken bond…and I welcomed it, welcomed it with open arms, laughing deliriously at it even as I crashed suddenly to my knees, my body and my spark overwhelmed and overloaded by the sensations wrought by a suddenly-severed, eons-old bond. Despite the pain, and despite my overwhelming exhaustion, I conjured up a smile that Skyfire, as he fell to his hands and knees next to me half out of concern and half out of his own extreme exhaustion, tried to return. His effort largely failed, as he managed only a small twist of his lips. But, just as the world was beginning to go fuzzy around its edges, darkness whirling around me and pain completely sapping my consciousness, I heard Skyfire's horribly-weakened voice.

_We did it, indeed_, Skyfire confirmed, just before the blackness entirely engulfed us, dragging us both down, down, down, into a pit of blessedly-numb darkness from which I could only hope that we would eventually emerge.


	22. Chapter 21

**_"He's gone. And so is Starscream." _**  
_Thundercracker in "The Ultimate Doom" _

It was, unsurprisingly, Soundwave who found Megatron and faithfully brought him back to Decepticon Headquarters. Only Skywarp, Hook – because Soundwave had specifically requested his presence – and I had been there to meet Soundwave in the docking bay when he'd returned to Headquarters. The situation had been entirely too uncertain to allow all of the Decepticons to know what was going on just yet. In fact, _we_ didn't know what was going on just yet.

All that we had known was that Megatron and Starscream had taken off by themselves, heading for who-knew-where, and that no one had heard so much as a peep from either of them since their abrupt departure. After almost a full day of not hearing anything from either of them, Skywarp had become antsy about Megatron's extended, unexplained absence and had suggested that maybe someone ought to go out and look for him. Soundwave, however, had mysteriously announced that no one was to do that…yet. Soundwave, obviously, knew something – Likely, Megatron had let him in on something of his plan, whatever it had been, before he had left – but of course Soundwave wasn't about to tell anyone else what he knew. But, after two full days of no communication whatsoever from either Megatron or Starscream, even Soundwave had decided that a search ought to be launched for them.

So, a dozen trusted Decepticons, led by Soundwave and his cassettes, had been sent out to find Megatron, Starscream, or both of them while Skywarp and I remained at Headquarters in order to deal with any awkward questions that arose from the ranks regarding our leader's extended and unexplained absence as well as to coordinate the search parties' efforts, making sure that every inch of land on Earth was searched, if necessary. The searchers had been gone for two days themselves and had all been just about to return to Headquarters for some much-needed recharge before heading out again, when Soundwave had finally reported that he had located Megatron – and only Megatron – and that he was bringing him back to Headquarters. Other than requesting that Hook meet him in the docking bay, that had been all that Soundwave had chosen to say. Typical.

We'd been shocked by what we'd seen when Soundwave had finally arrived in the docking bay with a limp and unresponsive Megatron cradled in his arms. There wasn't so much as a mark on him, but Megatron appeared quite dead nonetheless. Hook, though, had quickly ascertained and assured us that Megatron wasn't dead at all. He'd also added, though, that Megatron's complete unresponsiveness was something that he had never seen before and that he needed to examine him more closely before he could offer so much as a diagnosis, much less a prognosis. So, Skywarp had ordered the corridors between the docking bay and the medbay cleared, and Megatron had been taken to the medbay. Hook had, of course, disappeared in there with him. Subsequent attempts to check in with Hook had been met with snarled assurances that he would give a full report when he was damned good and ready to do so and that, in the meantime, we were only distracting him from his work by contacting him every five minutes. So, in the end, we'd been forced to take Hook at his word, to trust that he would contact us when he knew anything. Until then, we just had to be patient.

That had been three days ago.

Skywarp, of course, doesn't take well to uncertainty, much less to waiting. He's an impatient soul even at the best of times, and his customary impatience was, at the moment, amplified by the fact that the other Decepticons seemed to be looking to him for direction and guidance. Under normal circumstances, he would like that; he is, after all, an attention hound of the highest order, and he loves to feel important and needed. But, in this case, with things being so uncertain about Megatron, he had other things on his mind and didn't appreciate the fact that people seemed to be looking to him for leadership. Especially because, technically, _Soundwave_ was supposed to be in command in the absence of both Megatron and Starscream. It's just that most of the denizens of Decepticon Headquarters know that Soundwave doesn't want to be a leader. It's widely known that he's a much happier camper when he's working behind the scenes, and in general, most Decepticons like it when Soundwave's a happy camper. An unhappy Soundwave, after all, is a downright _scary_ Soundwave. Besides, there's no one who can do Soundwave's intelligence-gathering duties better than he and his crew can do them, anyway. Why mess with success?

So that left "poor" Skywarp. Everyone knew that Skywarp, as Air Commander in Starscream's absence, was next in line after Soundwave. So, more and more as the Megatron-less days passed, they started looking to Skywarp for leadership, bypassing Soundwave entirely. Skywarp was not at all comfortable with this, becoming progressively twitchier as the days passed. He was irritable with absolutely everyone, perfecting a Megatron-like glare that he leveled freely at anyone who so much as looked at him funny, but he seemed to have a special brand of irritation that he saved just for me, against which I was working on perfecting a Starscream-like ignoring technique. Most of all, though, he was hyperaware of the attention and, as he saw it, the judgment that was focusing upon him more and more the longer Megatron remained out of commission and Starscream remained…well, absent. My own efforts to calm and reassure him with soothing words, lots of attempted but ill-received snuggling, and even more ego-stroking praise and encouragement had mostly been in vain. And to top it all off, he hadn't recharged since we'd sent out the search parties five days ago, and the strain was definitely showing. All of it had conspired together to create one supremely pissy Skywarp-zilla, and I, frankly, had had about as much of him as I could take. Already I was resorting to inventing increasingly creative ways of killing him that I knew I would never carry out but that were still quite entertaining to ponder.

So, it didn't surprise me at all when the door to our quarters slid open and Skywarp swooped through them. What did surprise me, though, was the haunted expression on his face as he scooted through the doors as if pursued by a demon from the depths and that, after the door had safely and serenely closed with a soft hydraulic hiss behind him, he leaned wearily against it, sliding slowly down until he was huddled miserably on the floor. Skywarp-zilla was, for the moment, long gone. In his place was panicked, needy-looking Skywarp, the kind of Skywarp that usually sent me rocketing into his arms to be all embarrassingly consoling and mother-henny. I had to fight the instinctive urge to do just that now, as I watched him huddling there. Skywarp just stared back at me for a long moment, eyes wide with what might very well have been fear, not saying anything. He wore that dazed, shell-shocked expression with impressive panache, which only served to further melt my innards. I held my ground, though, not moving, not even _twitching_. I just stared back at Skywarp, waiting for him to say something. While I waited, I carefully put aside the container of energon from which I'd been absently sipping and the datapad at which I'd been thoughtfully poking while sitting alone in my quarters, reflecting upon what had happened over the last several days and contemplating what, exactly, the Decepticons were supposed to do – or _could_ do – now. Finally, Skywarp broke the silence between us.

"Primus," he announced fervently, his voice shaking in the same way that I suspected his entire body would be shaking if only he would allow it to do so. "I _really_ hope Screamer decides to come back soon."

I frowned at that, amazed that Skywarp apparently still believed that Starscream was going to come back, much less that Skywarp actually _wanted_ him to come back. It was painfully obvious to me that Starscream was likely the one responsible for Megatron's current condition, whatever the hell it was, so as far as I was concerned it logically followed that the very _last_ thing that Starscream was likely to do – assuming that he was still alive at all – would be to return to Decepticon Headquarters. But on the other hand, Skywarp was fully aware that if Starscream were to return, then all pressure would instantly be off him, and he could safely return to the familiar, comfortable role of follower. He'd always said that he wanted Starscream's job, but I tended to think that over the past several days he'd painfully discovered that having was not so nice of a thing as wanting. He was probably clinging to some faint, subconscious hope that Starscream would somehow miraculously return and save him. So, I figured I might as well completely shatter Skywarp's illusions now, if only so that we could look forward and move on with our lives, whatever weird course our lives were now going to follow.

"Starscream's not coming back, Skywarp," I said softly, as gently as I could. "Not this time. You know that."

Skywarp just stared at me for a long moment, stricken. And then his face fell before he hunched over and buried it in his hands, rubbing frantically at his face for a few moments before looking hopelessly back up at me.

"I know," he muttered in nothing less than abject misery. "I do know that. I do. But this…I don't know if I can deal with this, TC. In fact, I _know_ I can't deal with this …" he finished in a small and, I thought, somewhat terrified voice.

I knew then that Skywarp had new information, new information that had floored him and that he was still trying without much success to process and assimilate. I knew, too, that he had come to our quarters because he had known that I was there, and he knew that I would, as usual, help him to sort through whatever it was that he had learned. So, sighing in preparation for the bad news that I knew was coming, I stood, silently walked over to Skywarp, and pulled him gently but insistently to his feet. Then, before he could say anything, before he could protest, I led him over to the chair that I'd been sitting in, pushed down firmly on the tops of his shoulders until he got the hint and flopped down in the chair, and then went to the energon dispenser on the wall and procured for him a large serving of the glowing stuff. It would, I hoped, help to calm him so that he'd be able to talk to me in a somewhat rational manner.

"So…What's happened now, Skywarp?" I asked quietly of him after he'd had a few moments to down half of the energon that I'd given him in a single gulp and after I'd pulled up another chair so that I could sit facing him and settled myself into it for what was likely to be a long haul.

Skywarp looked at me with studied innocence over the rim of the container holding his energon as he sipped at what was left of it.

"What makes you think anything happened?" he asked of me, going for nonchalance but failing miserably. I could, of course, read him like a book, and I knew that he was anything but nonchalant at the moment.

"Because you're panicking, love," I answered mildly, almost tenderly, not able to suppress an affectionate little smile, the kind that usually pissed Skywarp off royally because it was the one that I usually gave him when I was patronizing him. "And you don't usually panic without a damned good reason."

Skywarp just sighed irritably at me. I knew that he desperately wanted to spill his proverbial guts to the only person in the universe that he knew that he could spill them to without fear of penalty. But for a long while, he just stared at the dregs of his energon instead, swinging the container back and forth like a pendulum while he gathered his thoughts. When he finally looked up at me, his expression was haunted.

"Soundwave and I got Hook's report just a little while ago," Skywarp said, his voice unusually subdued. Tentative. Small. I knew from the tone of his voice that whatever news he had wasn't good.

"And…?" I prompted when Skywarp descended into worried silence instead of elaborating.

Abruptly, Skywarp launched himself out of his chair, freeing himself to pace manically around the room. It didn't surprise me; I was more surprised that he'd managed to sit still as long as he had. While he paced, he talked, accentuating his words with wild, jerking hand gestures that expressed his wild, frantic emotions far better than any words that he could say.

"Hook said that Megatron's spark has been…damaged," he reported tersely. "Somehow. 'Fractured,' was the exact term that he used. He showed us scans of it, and there're these dark threads in it that look like cracks. And Hook said that he's never seen anything like it and that he's searched thoroughly but can find no records in any database on Cybertron of anyone surviving that sort of thing. Ever. But he said it looked to him as if there'd been…too much input or something, that there was some kind of overload that caused the whole…thing," Skywarp finished, hands waving ineffectually as he searched in vain for a better word than "thing."

"Input?" I echoed, intrigued despite myself, leaning back thoughtfully in my chair. After a few moments I ventured, "Like…from a bond?"

Skywarp looked sharply at me then, suddenly still as a statue as my words sank into his keyed-up yet exhausted mind. His expression went blank for a second, but then angry comprehension suddenly dawned on his white face.

"Starscream!" he spat as if the name was the vilest of curses, his voice filled with accusation and his face scrunched up with rage. And then, as if further emphasis was somehow necessary, he smacked a fist against the wall, denting it rather deeply.

"Calm down!" I snapped at him, none too gently. When he aimed a questioning glare at me in response, I added, "We have no idea what happened out there. And anger isn't going to help. So for right now…Let's just focus on what we _do_ know, all right?"

Sighing, grudgingly swallowing his anger – for the moment, at least – Skywarp nodded. Rather than returning to his pacing, though, he returned to his chair and flopped down into it again, slumping with exhaustion this time.

"What else?" I prompted him wearily when it seemed as if Skywarp wasn't inclined to say anything more even though I could tell that that there was something else bothering him.

For a long moment, Skywarp didn't answer me. He just frowned up at the ceiling, staring at it as if there was something mesmerizing to see up there. Finally, he shifted his gaze to look at me, straightened in his chair, and then leaned toward me conspiratorially, as if he feared that his words might somehow be overheard. When he spoke, his voice was a soft, quiet whisper that was full of apprehension.

"Hook says that the damage is irreparable or at least that he has no idea how to go about trying to fix it without doing further damage and that there's absolutely nothing in the databases on Cybertron that will help him," Skywarp reported anxiously, the words falling out of him in a fearful flood. "And since the damage is all to Megatron's spark, he's pretty certain that Megatron will never regain consciousness. And even if by some miracle he _does_ wake up, Hook seems to think that he either won't survive long or that he won't be the same person at all or even that he'll be completely deranged or…or all of that…"

And that, of course, was what was most disturbing to Skywarp, as his voice trailed off in distress. I knew that he'd been operating on the optimistic assumption that Megatron would recover quickly, and that he'd been thinking that once Megatron was fully recovered, everything would just magically return to normal, as if someone had pressed a giant reset button, and we'd just keep doing what we'd been doing, same as always, the only difference being that Starscream would no longer be around to annoy and infuriate us. That, as far as Skywarp was concerned, would all be a very good thing. No doubt, he'd been envisioning the same outcome as he'd been envisioning when we'd sent Starscream away from Headquarters a few weeks back.

So, the news that that wasn't going to happen was quite devastating to Skywarp; he knew now that his unofficial new position and unofficial new responsibilities – neither of which was completely comfortable at the moment – wouldn't be going away anytime soon and, in fact, were likely here to stay for at least the foreseeable future. And at the moment, that knowledge was overwhelming and deeply disturbing him; he just couldn't see past it to any kind of bright future.

But I could. In fact, as Skywarp had relayed to me his news, I'd had to fight to keep a mutinous grin from my face. I was, after all, seeing possibilities in the situation, many exciting possibilities. The trick, of course, was to present them to Skywarp without him becoming more upset than he already was…

"You know, Skywarp…" I ventured tentatively as I watched my bondmate descend into broody silence, staring miserably at the floor. "This doesn't _have_ to be a bad thing…"

Skywarp looked up at me sharply, regarding me as if I'd suddenly grown another head.

"Of _course_ this is a bad thing, TC!" he exclaimed after a moment spent staring dumbfoundedly at me. "In fact, this is nothing less than a…a _disaster_! It means that I'm…I'm…"

He couldn't finish his sentence. The implications of doing so, I knew, were at the moment too awful for him to contemplate, much less to express. So I, being the ever-helpful bondmate that I am, expressed them for him.

"It means," I said levelly, "that you're in charge, and that you_ will_ be in charge for at least the near future."

Skywarp winced at my words, as if I'd physically struck him instead of simply spoken to him.

"Yeah…" he said weakly. "Yeah, that." And then, in an instant, he brightened and sat bolt-upright in his chair. "Unless Soundwave takes over!" he exclaimed elatedly, having found, so he thought, his "out."

I let out a weary, resigned sigh.

"You know as well as I do that that's not going to happen, 'Warp," I answered, calmly bursting his bubble. "If Soundwave _wanted_ to take over, he'd have done so by now. And even if that _did_ happen…Well, most Decepticons would much rather have you as our leader, I think. They're looking to _you _now. Not to him."

Deflated, Skywarp sank back in his chair, leveled an unhappy glare at me, and muttered, without heat, "I hate you."

"I know you do, love," I said with saccharine sweetness and a lop-sided smile, reaching over to patronizingly pat his hand, for all of which he glared at me in extreme irritation. "But like I said, this doesn't have to be all bad. I've been thinking—"

"Oh, great!" Skywarp snidely interjected. "You thinking is _just_ what I need!"

"I've been _thinking_," I repeated loudly, not about to let him throw me off-track, "about what to do now, about where to go from here."

Skywarp sighed a long, heavy, and deeply resigned sigh, sprawling back in his chair in complete exhaustion.

"And just what have you come up with?" he asked wearily of the ceiling, not of me, before he managed to lift his head again to look at me. "Not that I _really_ want to know, mind you," he added, "but I know that won't stop you from telling me, so you might as well just go ahead and get it off your chest."

"I really think," I said with an amused smile, "that the Decepticons need to get back to basics."

"Basics," Skywarp parroted blandly, puzzled. "As in…?" he prompted after a moment.

"As in," I explained, "getting back to why we left Cybertron in the first place."

"We followed the Autobots when _they_ left," Skywarp answered with a dismissive shrug. "So?"

"So why did _they_ leave Cybertron?"

"How should_ I_ know? To find new energy sources, I guess," Skywarp replied with a careless shrug, his still-bland, almost bored tone of voice indicating that he was obviously not following my line of thinking.

"Right," I answered with a nod. "And they were going to use those hypothetical new energy sources to…?" I prompted him.

Skywarp frowned at that, his mouth twisting in thought for a moment.

"Um…to revitalize Cybertron?" he guessed.

"Exactly!" I crowed triumphantly, and Skywarp jumped at the unexpectedness of my shout. "And if you'll remember," I continued, "Megatron's idea was to follow the Autobots so that _he_ could find any new energy sources that might be out there first. So that _he_ could revitalize Cybertron first."

Skywarp nodded slowly, comprehendingly, finally starting to catch on.

"And we…seem to have lost sight of that whole 'revitalize Cybertron' goal thingy somewhere or another along the way, haven't we?" he ventured quietly.

"Yes," I replied. "We did. Or at least _Megatron_ lost sight of it. But _you_ can change that, Skywarp. You have the perfect opportunity to do so here."

Skywarp stared at me for a long moment after that, his mouth occasionally opening as if he wanted to say something but then closing again when he just couldn't find the words. Eventually, he got up out of his chair and started pacing again. This time, though, his pacing was more thoughtful than it was frantic. He was, I knew, starting to turn over possibilities in his mind, and perhaps he was beginning to like the implications of those possibilities. Finally, after a few minutes of pacing, Skywarp stopped in his tracks, turned to face me and, with an expectant look on his face, he asked the question that I had known that he was going to ask.

"How?"

Smiling slightly, I picked up the datapad that I'd been reading before Skywarp's arrival and tossed it at him.

"Check that out," I said as Skywarp deftly plucked the flying pad out of the air. While reading it, Skywarp returned to his chair and sat down in it. And then, after a few moments, he looked up at me again.

"I don't get it," he announced with a perplexed frown on his face.

Smiling fondly – because I'd known that he was going to say that, too – I patiently explained, "You remember when Megatron had that kooky idea to bring Cybertron into Earth's orbit?"

"Yeah," Skywarp blankly answered.

"Well, when the Autobots knocked Cybertron out of Earth's orbit, it was captured by Jupiter's gravity."

"Yeah," Skywarp repeated. "I _know_ that, TC. And I'm sure we haven't heard the last of Shockwave's endless and entertainingly creative complaints about it, either. So _what_?"

"So _that_," I said, pointing at the data pad that Skywarp was still holding, "is a study of the moon of Jupiter that the humans call Io, one conducted five or six years ago by _Voyager I,_ one of the humans' exploratory space probes. And if Shockwave had half a brain in his head, he would've stopped complaining about where Cybertron ended up parking itself, sent out some probes of his own…and then he _might_ have noticed the goldmine sitting right next door to him."

At that, Skywarp looked down at the pad again, and his face this time registered surprise as he took in – and this time began to understand – the implications of what he read about the lifeless, geologically unstable, highly volcanic, and incredibly energy-rich little planetoid that was, now, Cybertron's closest neighbor.

"But how do we go about harnessing it?" he asked. "How—"

I held up my hand toward him to stave off the flood of questions that were about to tumble out of his mouth.

"I haven't gotten that far," I answered. "In fact, I'm not sure that I _can_ go any farther. I'm no techie. But I know that some of the people around here and back on Cybertron could figure it out. If _someone_ were to give them the opportunity to wrap their minds around the problem, I know they could come up with something workable."

Knowing precisely who I meant by that emphasis on the word "someone," Skywarp looked down at the pad in his hands again, shook his head uncertainly at what he read there, and then looked back up at me just as uncertainly.

"I don't know," he said. "I mean, I keep wondering what Megatron would do if he was…awake. And I keep wondering what might happen to me if he wakes up and finds me doing something that…that he doesn't approve of."

"Stop thinking about that, Skywarp!" I admonished him sharply, with an exasperated sigh. "Look," I added, talking over him when he gave me a glare and opened his mouth to argue with me, "for all intents and purposes, Megatron _is not here_. And, let's face it, from what Hook said, the likelihood is that he never _will_ be here again, really. But _you_ are here, Skywarp. And this could make a difference. In fact, it could make all the difference in the universe. For _all_ of us."

Skywarp just looked at me, still deeply apprehensive.

"And if it makes you feel any better," I continued when he didn't say anything to me, this time more softly, more gently, "just think of it as something to do until Megatron wakes up and we can start doing what _he_ wants us to do again. This is something that won't antagonize the humans or the Autobots or anyone else and that will help Cybertron _and_ the Decepticon cause at the same time. _If_ Megatron wakes up, he couldn't possibly argue with that. So just…think about it, 'Warp," I encouraged him. "And while you're at it, stop seeing Megatron's loss as some kind of curse. Because…"

"Because…?" Skywarp prompted warily when my voice trailed off.

"Because…it isn't," I said simply, with a diffident shrug, keeping my words studiously calm and gentle, treading carefully. "In fact," I added after taking a deep, preparatory breath, "it just might be the second-best thing that's ever happened to you."

Skywarp just stared at me, a bit of anger flashing in his eyes as he regarded me.

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's true," I answered sincerely. Reaching across the small space between us, I took Skywarp's hands in mine, gave them an encouraging squeeze, and continued, "Skywarp, whether or not _you_ realize it, _I _know that you were made for this job. I know from the very depth of my spark that you could be a leader a thousand times more effective than Megatron ever was if only you'd just drag yourself out from under his shadow _and_ Starscream's shadow and just…be the person that you're supposed to be instead of the person you've been molded into. Just be the leader that I know that you can be and that everyone else seems to think that you can be."

Skywarp just stared at me, blinking dumbfoundedly, for a long time, digesting what I'd said and the implications of it. Pulling one hand out of my grip, he rested it gently against my cheek, staring at me wonderingly.

"I wish I had the kind of confidence in myself," he said quietly, hesitantly, "that you have in me."

"But you do," I protested, in all sincerity.

"Not really," Skywarp replied, shaking his head and chuckling ruefully as he lazily stroked my cheek. "I'm just a pretty good actor, is all. You of all people should know that."

"Sometimes," I murmured with a philosophical shrug, contentedly leaning my face into Skywarp's caress, "that's all that the really good leaders are."

Skywarp sighed, leaning back tiredly in his chair and staring at the ceiling for moments that stretched into half-a-dozen minutes. In fact, he was utterly still for so long that I thought exhaustion had finally managed to overcome him and that he'd slipped into recharge. I was just getting ready to get up and carry him to the recharge berth in the other room when he spoke again, his voice adorably drowsy, drained with the strain of a long stretch of days without recharge, and yet still cautiously wary.

"Thundercracker," he said, "would you think I was totally wussy if I told you that I was scared out of my mind?"

I smiled affectionately, reassuringly at him, even though he wasn't looking at me at the moment.

"Nooooo," I said, after half a second of careful consideration. "Under the circumstances, I'd think you were totally _sane_ if you told me you were scared out of your mind."

At that, Skywarp lifted his head off the back of the chair – something that I noticed took a good deal of effort, as exhausted as he was – and grinned at me, obviously relieved.

"Thanks," he said. "That's good to know." And then his head dropped back down, and he was still again. Until, of course, he abruptly lifted his head again a few seconds later. "Waitasec," he said, frowning thoughtfully at me. "You said Megatron…uh, going away was the _second_-best thing that ever happened to me. So what's the best thing?"

I quirked a jokingly self-important grin at him.

"Me, of course," I said.

"Oh, of _course_!" Skywarp responded, glancing heavenward in mock exasperation. "How _could_ I have forgotten?" And then he sank down further in his chair, wriggled a bit until he deemed himself comfortable, and then, finally, his exhaustion at last managed to overcome him.

I sat there, just watching him, for a very long time, reflecting on the tumultuous events of the past several years, marveling at how quickly and how drastically things had changed in such a short period of time. As far as I was concerned, all of the changes had ultimately been for the better. Megatron was basically gone, at least for the moment…and I secretly hoped that he would stay gone. Starscream, if he was alive—and I suspected that he was—was finally free in every sense of the word, and I assumed that he was now off somewhere with Skyfire, just as he should be, beginning a new life. And I hoped that, for him, it was good new life; if nothing else, he had earned it. And then there was Skywarp, who had the opportunity of a lifetime—a chance for a new life of his own, in fact—sitting right in front of him, if only he'd reach out and grab it…and I meant to make sure that he did. The Decepticons had, at the moment, a somewhat uncertain future, but if I had anything to say about it, it would be a bright one, one that was full of real purpose as opposed to the largely hollow and, on Megatron's part, selfish purpose that we had been pursuing for the past several years.

And as for me… For perhaps the very first time in my life, I felt completely at peace. The future at the moment was uncertain, yes, but as I sat there watching my exhausted mate getting some much-needed rest, I somehow knew that it would be, that it _had_ to be, better than the past. If nothing else, I knew that now, for the moment at least, I was in control of my own destiny, and I had never been able to say that before. It was an exciting prospect…but also an intimidating one; I knew what Skywarp was talking about when he'd said that he was scared out of his mind. But it was, I thought, a good kind of scared.


	23. Chapter 22

**_"So long, Megatron. And don't think that it hasn't been fun."_**  
_Starscream in "Starscream's Brigade" _

It had, I knew, only been a few weeks since I'd last stepped foot on Cybertron, dealing with rebellious Combaticons; it just _felt_ like it had been half a lifetime since I'd been there. Now, just above the horizon hung the huge, sulfurously-hued planet that the humans had named Jupiter after one of their ancient mythological deities. Its famous red spot happened to be facing Cybertron at the moment, a huge and, indeed, god-like Decepticon eye glowering down in displeasure at its recently acquired moon.

It had, I reflected, much to glare at. If nothing else, Cybertron's capture and abrupt insertion into Jupiter's impressive array of satellite planetoids hadn't been at all easy on the poor planet. In fact, I was surprised that Cybertron hadn't been completely torn apart by what had happened to it, that it hadn't been reduced to a ring of rubble orbiting Jupiter in mute testimony to the destructive power of tidal forces. As it was, the gravitational havoc that had been wreaked had, in a relative instant, done more to decimate the Cybertronian landscape and its inhabitants than the entire eons-long war between the Autobots and the Decepticons had ever managed to do. Ruin was everywhere, all around me in all directions as far as I could see; I just hadn't taken the time to notice it during the last several times I'd been to the planet.

Yet Cybertron still existed, was still in one piece, was still surviving quite well, thank you, despite the overwhelming odds against it. And, perhaps even more amazingly, amidst the wreckage there were encouraging signs of life everywhere on Cybertron. Dim lights flickering fitfully in unexpected places and in the midst of utter ruin gave me hope that my devastated home planet would one day be reborn in a blaze of phoenix-like glory.

And that hope, in turn, gave my devastated psyche hope for its own kind of rebirth, its own very different kind of transformation. It hadn't happened yet, and it might not happen in the foreseeable future, but the possibility was stubbornly clinging to existence, clinging to _life_, just as Cybertron was.

Two weeks had passed since the "battle" between Skyfire, Megatron, and me. It was a battle that, as far as I knew, had had only two survivors. In the aftermath of that battle, Skyfire and I had been completely exhausted on so many different levels that we'd both been unconscious for I knew not how long. I only knew that, upon awakening, still in Dr. Archeville's abandoned laboratory, I'd found Skyfire already awake and, although he looked like he shouldn't be up and about at all, he had been busily attaching his portable energon generator to me, easily shoving aside my feeble protests that he should recharge first. I remember lifting my head and seeing Megatron lying not far from me, looking lifeless, and a deep shudder passing through my body as I'd lapsed back into welcome unconsciousness and recharge.

Once I'd reawakened, somewhat renewed and re-energized, Skyfire and I had talked for a little while about many things. We had decided that we needed to leave, that nowhere on Earth would we be safe from the wrath of the Decepticons once they'd learned of Megatron's fate and had figured out who had been responsible for it. The only place we could think of to go was back to Cybertron, and so…here we were, in this abandoned yet structurally stable – for the moment, at least – building that we'd found and that we were using as a base of sorts while we figured out what to do with the rest of our lives. Skyfire was at the moment stretched out on the floor in a room several stories below me, but I…? I had been restless and, in order to avoid disturbing Skyfire's peaceful recharge, I'd gone up the roof to think, to sort out things in my mind that I hadn't yet had the opportunity to address in the wake of everything that had happened. In fact, so much had happened over the last several weeks that I hadn't really had time to absorb it all, to _feel_ any of it, to accept all of it as real. But now, as things began to settle down—although I was quite certain that this respite was merely the calm before the storm—it had all started to become real to me. Real and…frightening.

I so wished that I could reach out to Skyfire, talk to him about these troubles of mine, about all that had happened to me, to us. But for some reason, I just couldn't do so. Not now. Not yet. I was, of course, grateful for all that Skyfire had done for me, for all that he had sacrificed and suffered for my sake. And I was happy to be with him again…but I felt that I still wasn't ready to be his mate again. In fact, we hadn't yet renewed the bond between us precisely because I was deeply uncomfortable with the very idea of doing so; for me, bonding had come to have very negative connotations. But on the other hand, I longed for the emotional and mental closeness to Skyfire that I knew that I would feel again if only I could overcome and squelch my inhibitions. I longed for Skyfire to be able to sense my emotions, my mental state, again so that he could then offer the comfort that one could only offer if one _truly_ knew what the other was feeling. And I longed for him in so many other ways, as well. So on the one hand I wanted Skyfire with all my being…but on the other hand I was deeply afraid of him. So now I felt quite strongly that I needed to be alone for a little while, if only to begin to sort myself out, even though I wasn't entirely sure that I could succeed in the effort.

For the past two weeks, I had been feeling…empty. It was, I knew, the effect of an the severed bond; the severance and its accompanying flood of emotions and sensations had all happened too quickly to be properly processed and assimilated. The pain had finally subsided to the point where it was now just a dull, occasional twinge instead of the all-consuming agony that it had been during the whole first week after Skyfire and I had forced Megatron out of the bond. Once the pain had mostly gone away, though, I was left with a feeling of complete numbness, completely disconnection from reality. I felt completely adrift, attached to nothing and no one as I had not been for close to ten million years.

It was, in a strange way, a comfortable, cushioning sort of feeling; I hadn't yet had to deal with reality or with the future. But now the numbness was wearing slowly off, and a flood of emotions had roared in as if from a burst dam to fill the void. Suddenly, I was feeling too much and all of it was assaulting me at the same time, in a confusing and often conflicting jumble.

Somewhere in the mish-mash that was my emotional state, I did feel elated, joyful. Like I could just fling myself off the roof upon which I sat, soar to the heavens, and never come down. Megatron, after all, was gone. He would never again torment me. The bond between us was broken, completely severed, and I was almost completely healed from the physical effects of that severance. No remnant of him remained to haunt my spark, so for the first time in millions of years I was completely alone in my own spark. I was free and from that freedom sprang joy. It was just that all of the _other_ emotions that were rampaging through my mind and my spark were effectively damping that joy, tempering it with caution and deep apprehension. I knew that I was facing a wholly uncertain future, and that was somewhat…disquieting, to say the least.

For millions of years, after all, my entire identity, my entire _life_, had been predicated more or less upon only two things. The more benign factor was simply being a Decepticon, a choice that I had made without hesitation and, indeed, without regret. The other far more complicated factor was, of course, Megatron. For millions of years he, more than anything or anyone else, had defined my identity, and he had molded and shaped that identity according to who and what he had wanted and needed me to be at any given time. It was something that, as completely steeped in the situation as I had been, I hadn't had a hope of recognizing it for what it was. But now that I was free from it, now that I was viewing it all from outside of the situation, it was all blindingly, painfully obvious to me.

I hadn't known – or at least I had forgotten – who I was and, worse, when I had occasionally made the effort to understand who I was, I had only believed what Megatron had told me, the estimation that he had enforced with countless beatings both physical and psychological. I hadn't believed what Skyfire had told me, without fail, every time that I had been to his island to visit him. I hadn't believed what even Thundercracker had tried, in his diffident, tentative, roundabout way, to tell me. I had only believed Megatron. And Megatron, of course, had used that power to define me to my own great disadvantage. I knew that now. But at the same time, the position had been an oddly comforting one, in a deeply twisted sort of way. It had been a secure position. I hadn't had to think about who I was. I hadn't had to try to find out who I was. I hadn't had to worry about what my future would hold. I'd had someone there to rigidly define and map out all of that for me and, in an odd way, that had almost made life easier. For all of its occasional unpleasantness, my life with Megatron had been surprisingly simple.

But now…Now, my life was vastly complicated. Now, Megatron's influence and his violently reinforced definitions of who I was and who I should be were gone. My high status in the Decepticon hierarchy was, likewise, gone. I was, in fact, no longer a Decepticon at all, which wasn't a conscious decision that I had made so much as it was simply a consequence of intervening in the "fight" between Megatron and Skyfire. Likely, once they pieced together what had happened, if any Decepticon caught a glimpse of me, he'd do his best to kill me. So, that way of life was, for me, suddenly and irreversibly closed off, gone as if it had never been. Yet the Decepticon way of life and the Decepticon way of thinking were in many ways all that I knew, all that I understood. In some ways, being a Decepticon had been my anchor in reality when the rest of my life was heading off in crazy and self-destructive, not to mention self-abusive, directions. But now that anchor was gone, and as a result, I was feeling rudderless, directionless.

So, ironically, even after all that had happened over the past month or so, I _still_ didn't know who I was, really, no more so than I had known who I was, say, in the aftermath of a bond with Megatron. I was no longer Starscream, second-in-command of the Decepticon Empire. I was no longer Starscream, Decepticon warrior. I was no longer Starscream, bondmate of Megatron. I was…just Starscream, and I was entirely alone in the universe but for one other person. And there was nothing, save for Skyfire and a dimly-remembered pre-Megatron life, to replace all of those other identities that I'd lost in that fleeting instant when I'd accepted that I had to help Skyfire in his fight against Megatron even if it meant my own death. I knew that, now, I would have to build an entirely new life, an entirely new identity, and an entirely new purpose because the old ones were gone, were forever out of my reach even if I had wanted to embrace them again.

In fact, what I needed to do was to rediscover my _old_ life, my old identity, my old purpose, but I wasn't sure that I was capable of accomplishing that goal. On one level, I _knew_ that Megatron was gone and that I was free of him. Yet, on another level, I had to admit that I was still waiting for him to swoop down upon me and extract his revenge for what I'd done to him. Old habits really do die hard, as the human saying went. But that feeling of impending doom only proved to me that in my own mind my freedom was not yet a reality. And of course my old pre-Megatron life had happened so long ago, and so much had happened in the intervening years, that it all seemed dreamlike, like something that had happened to someone else, that I had just been an outside observer of it all. It, at the moment, wasn't real to me, either.

Yet, it had all happened to me. I knew that. I knew that I'd had a life prior to Skyfire's loss and the beginning of my association with Megatron. I'd been a scientist, a successful and innovative, if just slightly eccentric, one. True, I'd also been something of a social outcast, just as I had been amongst the Decepticons…but it hadn't bothered me in the least back then. In fact, I distinctly remembered being _happy_ back then. I remembered being settled, satisfied, and content with my life, with Skyfire, in a way that I'd never been as a Decepticon. It was all hazy, though, all quite unreal to me, and the thought of trying to resurrect it all, the thought of starting over where Skyfire and I had left off when Skyfire had first spotted Earth eons ago was…a little overwhelming. So, mixed in with the joy I felt over being free from Megatron there was also the massive trepidation I felt that was born of being free from Megatron. Had Skyfire not been there, I don't know how I might have handled it… Chances were that I wouldn't have handled it at all.

But, of course, Skyfire _was_ there. He was in the very building upon which I was, at the moment, sitting. And at the thought of him…Well, the joy began to edge out the trepidation, indeed. For all the apprehension that I was feeling about my future, I _knew_ that, right at that moment, I was where I belonged. True, I may have managed to forge a hollow semblance of an identity and a purpose with Megatron and amongst the Decepticons, but it had never truly been where I belonged, had never been truly what I was meant to be. It had all been a sham, a misguided attempt on my part to be something that I was not, perhaps to be _more_ than I was meant to be. But now I knew with spark-felt certainty that my destiny was to be wherever Skyfire was, to follow wherever he went, to complement whatever he did. Skyfire had been my entire life millions of years ago…and he would, I knew, be my entire life again. In fact, he already was.

He was, after all, all that I had left.

And yet…a frustrating but very familiar part of me refused to believe that Skyfire still wanted to be with me at all. I didn't feel…worthy…of Skyfire's devotion. He'd done so much for me, but what had I ever done for him? Well, I had left him for dead after his disappearance on Earth all those millions of years ago, for one thing. That was _surely_ a sign of my everlasting devotion. And once I'd found him again, I had promptly put him through hell several times over, even gone so far as to be perfectly content to kill him. So, it amazed me that Skyfire could forgive me…much less that he would want me around in the wake of my faithlessness, my cruelty to him. Yet, he did want me. He'd told me as much many times since we'd left Earth, most recently last night, when we'd come quite close to renewing our bond…only to have me run away in badly-disguised terror, retreating to the very roof upon which I now sat. It had become my haven when I needed to be alone, which was distressingly often. Skyfire understood, so he said; I just hoped that he'd continue to understand, continue to bear with me and my host of issues…

_He probably won't_ , a malicious voice in my head suddenly whispered. _He'll get tired of waiting for you to get over your cowardly fears, and in the meantime someone a lot better will come along and he'll realize what he's giving up in order to coddle you. He deserves better than the likes of you, Starscream. _

I knew the voice that was speaking, of course. It was the one that had suddenly taken up residence in my head during the long, torturous trip back to Cybertron millions of years ago, after I'd lost Skyfire on Earth. It was the voice that had, ultimately, led me to Megatron and that had subsequently, over the next…oh, couple of eons…convinced me that, whatever Megatron did to me, I deserved it all and more. It was, essentially, the voice that had destroyed my life. So, I knew that I shouldn't be listening to it now. It was wrong, and I knew it. It had made my life a living hell, and I knew that, too. But the voice wasn't easily dispatched. Apparently, I couldn't just will it away. It was there, in the background, constantly monitoring my thoughts and trying to steer them in the direction that it wanted them to follow. Dealing with it – and hopefully quelling it – was yet another thing that I had to look forward to in the future. It was a future that, at the moment, seemed both bright and bleak at the same time. I wondered, as I sat there with my legs dangling over the edge of the roof, staring at the sparse lights glowing weakly here and there in the ruined city that surrounded me, what that future had in store for me, for Skyfire, and for everyone else that I knew. I tried, as I contemplated that issue, to focus on the good and hopeful aspects of the future, to be optimistic about it all, but I had developed over the years a distinct tendency to spiral down into extreme pessimism. Especially when I was alone. I didn't tend to do well when I was alone…

So it was fortuitous that, at that very moment, I heard a heavy footstep behind me. I had been so deep in thought that I hadn't heard anyone approach me until whomever it was was quite close to me, just a few paces behind me. Reflexively, upon hearing the footsteps, I cringed, gasping in surprise as I did so. I had automatically expected, after all, that my visitor would be Megatron, and I further expected that he had come to punish me for what I had done to him. What a relief that, instead of the intense, focused pain of fusion cannon blast, I felt only the lightest, gentlest, and most comforting caress on the top of my shoulder.

"It's only me," Skyfire said gently in response to my automatic cringe as he sat himself down next to me. He took a few long moments to stare at the bleak view in front of him and then, when I didn't say anything, he softly added, "When I awoke and you weren't there, I thought that perhaps you had…left."

There wasn't any sort of accusation in Skyfire's voice, yet I knew that I had probably worried him. Tilting my chin up, I looked up at Skyfire, up into his calm white face, into his tranquil blue eyes as they looked down at me, concern flickering in them.

I hoped that my expression was sincere as I answered, "I'm not going anywhere, Skyfire."

Skyfire was quiet for a long while after that, and I wondered if he was thinking about the same sorts of things that I had been thinking about: What happens now? What do we do now?

"You're thinking," I eventually informed him mildly, leaning sideways to nudge him with my shoulder. "What are you thinking about?"

For a long moment, Skyfire didn't answer me. He just continued to stare at Jupiter hanging just over the horizon. I followed his gaze and noticed that the Spot was no longer visible, leading me to wonder just how long I'd been sitting there. But, putting that aside, my gaze traveled back to Skyfire, wondering at his silence. His face was entirely calm, his expression collected, but I could feel the tension that was radiating from him. I was just about to prompt him to speak again when he finally decided to speak up.

"Starscream, do you think," he asked tentatively, "that we killed him?"

It certainly wasn't the question that I'd expected him to ask. And of course, I didn't have to ask whom Skyfire meant by the word "him." And I immediately knew the answer to Skyfire's question, too.

"Yes," I answered calmly, matter-of-factly, with complete certainty. "I can't…sense him anymore. Not that I ever _could_ sense him all that strongly, but I can tell that there is no trace left of him in me now. So I would assume that means that he's…"

When Skyfire sighed deeply as my voice trailed off, I knew what was bothering him, knew that Skyfire had always thought that life was a precious thing, that he never actively sought to destroy it, no matter what form it took, and no matter how…evil that form was. Looking back, I should have realized that, if only for that reason, Skyfire never would have been happy amongst the Decepticons. And I also realized, at just that very moment, that I used to have that same appreciation for life in all of its forms, as well…

"That…bothers you, doesn't it?" I asked of Skyfire, if only to distract myself from that final disturbing thought of mine.

"Bothers me?" Skyfire echoed mildly as he looked down at me, his expression somewhat surprised.

"Yes," I said. "I know you're not a warrior, Skyfire, not a…killer. Even when it comes to someone like…him."

Skyfire considered that for a long time, staring down at me as I stared back up at him. I couldn't really tell what he was thinking, not yet. I knew that we'd have to renew our bond before I'd have that sort of instant, intimate communion with him. It had been so long, after all, since we'd been together in that way…and there'd been a wedge lodged between us for most of that time, as well. So, I was left to wonder what Skyfire was thinking for that long moment, as he contemplated my face. And then, just as I was about to ask him what he was thinking, he answered me.

"There are some things in the universe, Starscream…some _people_," he said slowly, deliberately, and with that calm, unshakeable certainty that was uniquely his and that I'd always admired, "that simply _deserve_ to die. I know that. But that does not mean that I have to _like_ it. I…believe in second chances, I suppose. And third, fourth, and fifth chances and beyond even that. I think that _everyone,_ no matter what they've done and no matter how evil they've been, can change if they really want to do so and if someone believes in them enough to help them…"

Skyfire was serious, too. I knew that. If nothing else, he hadn't given up on _me_ when I'd given him a million-and-one reasons to do so. He'd kept believing in me, kept fighting for me – sometimes in subtle ways and sometimes in more overt ways – even though I'd repeatedly rebuffed him. He'd kept offering me nothing but unconditional support, acceptance, and love even though I'd developed a rather nasty habit of hurting him in one way or another over the past couple of years. But rather than rejecting me, rather than leaving me to dwell forever in the pit that I'd quite happily dug for myself, Skyfire had offered me…redemption.

Yes, "redemption" was the right word for it, indeed. Skyfire had offered me a chance to start over, with all my sins forgiven, free to be the person that I was _supposed_ to be rather than the person that someone else wanted me to be. And for once in my life, I hadn't been so foolish as to reject such an offer. True, it had taken me quite a while to accept what Skyfire was offering to me, but eventually I'd been smart enough to grab hold of the lifeline that he'd thrown to me and then to hold on to it as if my life depended on it…because it _had_ depended upon it. I knew that, now.

"So, in other words," I said quietly, smiling up at Skyfire as his voice trailed off, "you believe that everyone is redeemable. Even the lowest of the low."

"Yes," he agreed succinctly, nodding absently. "Even the lower than the low, actually."

"Ah, so _that's_ why you didn't give up on me, then!" I exclaimed lightly. "To prove your happy little philosophy."

Skyfire looked surprised at that for a moment. Then he smiled down at me, no doubt realizing just at that moment that I was teasing him. He reached around me and wrapped one comforting arm around my shoulders, pulling me a bit closer to him. And much to my surprise I didn't cringe or reflexively stiffen when he did so. I didn't feel completely relaxed, but neither did I feel completely panicked. It was progress.

"No, Starscream," Skyfire was saying quietly, after a long moment of just holding me against him. "I didn't give up on _you_…because I love you. And you never quit on the people you love."

"Oh really?" I responded lightly. "And who came up with _that_ profound bit of wisdom?"

Skyfire smiled enigmatically for a long moment, as he stared out across the ruined Cybertronian landscape that spread out around us, before he answered, "A very wise man named…Sparkplug."

"Really?" I responded, genuinely surprised. I had been conditioned to believe that the humans were largely incapable of stringing meaningful words together, and the few to which I'd been personally exposed for any length of time had been distasteful examples of the species that hadn't led me to believe otherwise about them. Yet, in this case, the human was right and, indeed, somewhat wise, if just a little too far on the schmaltzy side for my tastes. But then, at the moment, I suppose that I was a bit inclined toward schmaltz, myself…

"Really," Skyfire was confirming, meanwhile. "And he's right, too." He was quiet for a moment after that, staring off into the distance, thinking. But then he refocused his attention on me and quietly but rather intensely added, "I know that we have a long road ahead of us now, Starscream, on many different levels. I know that you have…issues that will take time to heal. But you need to know that I will never give up on you. I will always be here for you, no matter what happens in the future. That, I promise you."

Skyfire's words warmed me. For so long, I had been yoked to someone who believed me to be worthless and who had quite easily made me share that belief. For so long, I had lived in the shadow of someone who tolerated my presence only because he could use my weaknesses to counteract his own, to make himself feel powerful and in control of everything and everyone around him. But now…Now I had Megatron's opposite in just about every way. Skyfire saw worth in me and so had begun to reignite in me my own sense of self-worth. And he didn't want me in order to use me, but simply because he…loved me.

I wanted so much to be able to turn to him, to wrap my arms around his bulk and just lose myself in him, to show him without having to say the words how I felt about him. But I couldn't do that. Not yet. And it wasn't just because I feared the whole bonding experience; it was also because it was very hard to break out of the pattern of thought and behavior that had both defined and fettered me for millions of very long years. Breaking away from that kind of extended and all-consuming conditioning wasn't going to happen in one day or even, I imagined, in several thousand days. All I could do, I knew, was try. It was going to be difficult and I was fully aware of that, but I was determined that, one day, I would heal. And during that process, I was determined that I would be the best person that I could be, if only so that Skyfire would be proud to have one such as me as a mate. He'd once been proud of that, I knew. I could only hope that he would be so again…one day… That longing for him, all of him, rose suddenly in me…and this time it took longer to subside.

"And I promise that I'll…try to be worthy of your promise, Skyfire," I eventually said, my uncertainty betrayed by a voice that was choked with the conflicting emotions running through my body and spark and by the fact that I couldn't look him in the eye.

Skyfire didn't answer me for a long time, so long that curiosity finally got the better of me and I looked up at him questioningly. He was looking down at me speculatively, his expression one of affectionate confusion.

"But…You've always been worthy of that promise, Starscream," Skyfire said, his voice nothing if not sincere. "Always. And you always will be."

I smiled what was likely a very wan smile up at Skyfire, trying not to look too uncertain as I did so.

"I…hope so," I said timidly.

"I _know_ so," he answered encouragingly and he tightened his arm around me for a moment, as if to reinforce his confidence in me, before he released me. He'd learned from experience that I could not yet tolerate close physical contact for extended periods of time.

Skyfire and I sat there for a long while after that, watching the few lights visible in what had once been the largest and most densely populated city on Cybertron. Tomorrow we would begin exploring Cybertron, hoping to find a Non-Aligned encampment somewhere that we could join and that, along with them, we could work toward forging a better future for ourselves and for our home planet. But for now…Now, it felt good to just be there with Skyfire, basking in his comforting presence. I wasn't quite sure how long we stayed there, but eventually I became aware of Skyfire's gaze on me. I could somehow sense that he was wondering about me, wondering what I was thinking.

"Starscream?" he finally asked of me. "Are you all right?"

And I just then realized, at the moment that Skyfire asked that question of me, that I _was_ all right, or at least that I would be all right, eventually. I had been through much over the years. I had learned much about myself and about the universe in general along the way, but I had also suffered more than perhaps any one being should have to suffer in any one lifetime. Yet, I had survived it all, and I had managed to do so with my sanity more or less intact. I had beaten the odds, just as Cybertron had beaten the odds when it had survived being captured by Jupiter's gravity.

I had won.

I had escaped.

And I suddenly felt lighter than I had felt in an unimaginably long time.

"I'm fine, love," I murmured quietly, uttering the endearment without consciously realizing that I had done so. My voice, as quiet as it was, was happy, genuinely happier than it had been in a long time, and it was tinged with a certainty and an optimism that I wouldn't have thought possible a few months before. Skyfire must have picked up on the feeling, though, because the smile he bestowed upon me was more radiant and hopeful than I had ever seen, and it filled me with a warmth the strength of which I couldn't remember ever having felt before.

It was true that I didn't know exactly what the future held for me, and it was true that that was frightening. I had always thought that I knew _exactly_ what the future had in store for me, and I had been completely certain that I was right, so it had been something of a shock to my system to discover that I had instead been completely and wildly _wrong_. My destiny had taken a very unexpected turn, and now I couldn't even begin to guess what would become of me. But on the other hand, I _did_ know that, whatever was in store for me in the future, I would no longer have to face any of it alone, and that knowledge was enormously comforting.

For me, for now, it was enough to know that, so long as I had Skyfire with me, I could easily face whatever the future chose to throw at me.


End file.
